


Drowning in the Path of Blood

by CelticGHardy



Series: Family Path of Blood [2]
Category: The Following
Genre: AU, Gen, I'll add the others when they start appearing, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticGHardy/pseuds/CelticGHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/829272/chapters/1576023">Following in the Path of Blood</a>. It's been a year since Carroll's reign and Ryan Hardy has gotten his life somewhat back on track, reconnecting with family and keeping himself healthy to keep Debra's promise.</p><p>So, when three people wearing Joe's face butcher several people on a subway car on the week of the anniversary, then the murder of a woman that's supposed to represent <strike>Claire</strike> Gwendolyn from <span class="u">The Gothic Sea</span> happens, Ryan's pulled back into the fray along with his son, Mike. Or, they try to pull him back, but he's not quite ready to give up his 'hobby' that he has going on with his niece, Max.</p><p>Mainly, finding an alive Joe Carroll and killing him for Claire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, for a little extra information, [this ficlet](http://veryrealimagination.tumblr.com/post/76015715711/congrats-its-a-boy) also happened, which explains reactions in this version.
> 
> Information wise, unlike what Mike said to Ryan in Resurrection (not talking to him in a year, Ryan, you're a dumbass), they've actually been calling and meeting when possible. Which is limited, due to several factors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: So, have you seen 2x09 and 2x10?
> 
> Yeah, I had to change a section to support that.

The operating room was chaos. 

Turner was the one that was alerted. The marshals watching them called him when they were rushing Ryan and Claire to the hospital. At the request of the FBI, he was watching over Mike Weston. It didn't take much to guess. Alex Lipton's death by Hardy's hand with the young agent not stopping him was raising a few eyebrows. Include the death confession of Debra Parker, and several were wondering if there wasn't something between the three. It wasn't just protecting the young agent. It was watching over him and making sure there wasn't something they were covering up.

Claire Matthews was lying on a stretcher in another room. Turner motioned at the Weston, who had managed to convince the woman to WitSec. Now, he led him over to the room where Ryan was, told to lie to him to protect her. The strengthened front he had up crumbled a tiny bit. He hoped it was just an act to convince the man. 

Mike carefully walked in. Seeing his father lying in the bed again brought back Joe's first attack and how worried he was then. This time, his father was awake. He was spotted almost immediately. “Mike,” he gasped, trying to get enough air to talk, “How's Claire?” He was unable to actually talk, just shaking his head to answer. Ryan started shaking. Losing Claire right after losing Debra. It wasn't fair. God damn it, it wasn't fair. Mike slid down the wall just inside the room.

-

Ryan woke up again the next day. Everything was slightly numb and his mind wasn't feeding him painful reminders, so he looked around.

The only person in the room was Mike. Someone had either been thoughtful or talked into bringing a bed for him to stay on. He looked over and saw whatever had been driving him the last couple of days just, gone. He was resting, covered with a thick blanket with an IV feeding something into his left hand. Paler than Ryan had ever seen, except when he had been sick in school. The cuts on his head stood out and the man was sure that being on his side to always see him must have been putting pressure on his chest wound.

Now he felt like shit. His first thought had been to spend time with Claire. Mike had just lost his mother. Fuck, he was a shit father at the moment.

He saw two people standing at the door and realized they must have been agents or marshals. They checked over the credentials of someone and he was soon being prodded and examined by nurses and doctors. After about ten minutes, he was finally able to get a question in. “Hey, what's wrong with Mike?” he whispered.

The doctor wondered for a minute if he should tell him. He decided to before Ryan's monitor started beeping. “Dehydration. Hasn't eaten in a while. We noticed some redness surrounding the knife wound he sustained earlier and we gave him a small dose of antibiotics last night,” he said. The man left and Ryan was faced with thinking on how much of a screw up he was. _We should have never let him out of the hospital that early. We shouldn't have allowed him to work on the case. Should have told Donovan to fuck off when he wanted Mike back on the case._

Pulled out of his self-loathing, he saw Mike starting to wake up. “Hey,” he said, trying to be soothing, “Hey, buddy.”

Confused for a second, it cleared when he saw the other man was up. “Dad?” he muttered. He tried getting up.

“No, no, stay down.” Mike listened, and carefully laid back down, covering himself more with the blanket. There wasn't nothing for the next few minutes as the two of them didn't want to destroy anything further. Ryan was the one that broke the uneasy silence. “I'm sorry.”

He couldn't accept it. Not now. “I can't....” _Talk to you. Deal with you. Deal with this._

“I'm still sorry,” he repeated. Ryan fell back asleep with his son still watching over him.

_ Present Day _

Melissa was sharing what AA had done for her, but Ryan was not paying attention. His mind was more focused on the news that he heard that morning after his morning jog. 

A year. It was surprising, already a year since Joe escaped jail and started his reign of terror. Since the FBI brought him back in to recapture the man. Since re-meeting Debra and Mike all over again after separated for so long. A year since Debra's death, Claire's. Mike's kidnapping and tortures, Joe finding out. A year of cleaning himself up, taking care of himself. Reconnecting with his son, his sister, sister-in-law and niece. Finding new leads of acolytes that had scattered across the United States. Looking for Joe himself.

Everyone started clapping and he realized she was done telling her story. He saw his sponsor, Barry, looking over at him and hoping this would be the day he became brave enough to step up and talk to the group. Like that was going to happen. Instead, the meeting ended and everyone separated to talk with those that they consider friends. 

Helping out to clean the room before the next group came in, they started talking. “This dinner's for your niece?” he asked.

“Yeah, she wants me to meet her new boyfriend. I have no idea why.”

“Maybe because she's excited to have you in her life and wants to share it with you.”

“Could be that.”

She came to the two and said, “Okay, how crazy am I?”

“Outstanding, Melissa,” he told her, “Feels good to open up and share, doesn't it?” 

That was directed toward Ryan. He could tell. “Why does everything you say sounds like it's directed toward me?” he asked.

“I'm your sponsor,” he said.

“I want to point out I'm only eight months sober.”

“All the more reason to open your mouth and let someone know what's going on in there.”

-

Class poured in quietly. Ryan was glad he had a subject that was mostly hard-working students. Not like general studies or others that seemed to attract more of a noxious crowd. He picked out a crime scene that had been released a few years ago. Case solved, settled. He warned the students before placing the photos up. He shouldn't, they wouldn't get warnings in real life.

A few of the students were able to pull things out and he listed them. “Okay, so, scattered, messy, we've got a disorganized killer. What else do you see?”

A woman further up pointed out, “The killer's left handed. That stab wounds are left to right.”

“Are you sure? Could have been right to right if her attacker struck her like this.” He took a defensive position that would have duplicated what they saw.

“Her bra and panties are on the floor,” a guy said, “But the victim is wearing underwear.”

“Which tells you....”

“She has horrible taste,” a different woman commented, “What's with the leopard print?”

The students laughed with her. “So, possible stripper, adult entertainer.”

“A hate crime?” another guy suggested. “Missionary kill. It's impulsive and violent.”

He clicked on another set when the same student, he thought, added, “She wasn't raped, but it was a sex crime. The underwear soiled by the chair.”

“Meaning?”

“The chair's positioned over the body. He masturbated and sat down to do it,” a third guy said.

“And the blood on the left side of the table is where he laid down the knife because that's the hand he uses to do his business because he was left-handed,” the first one finished. He was proud of them. The woman was happy she came to the right conclusion. He brought out the case report and read that she had been killed by a left-handed ex-boyfriend. She wasn't a stripper, just a bad dresser.

After a few more classes like that, he managed to get home to prepare for the dinner. The entire was picked up a couple of days ago, and he just had to re-heat while making a salad to go along side. He counted out enough plates for the people he knew were coming, set the table. In the middle of cutting bread, he heard his bell ring. His view screen showed Max standing outside. “Hi,” he said.

“Hey, am I late?”

“You're the first one here.” She nodded and put down her stuff. “So, you alone?”

“He's parking the car,” she said, putting her stuff away. “His name is Chris. He's from California, grew up in Sacramento or something. He's a pastry chef at Dolce.”

“Okay.” She gave him a hard look. “What?”

“You judged. Don't judge.”

“No, I just said 'okay' as in he's a pastry chef. Okay?”

“Mike's right. You don't do well in these situations. Maybe if you don't say it out loud.”

He was interrupted in his comeback by a knock at the door. He went to answer and saw the person Max had brought. “I'm Ryan,” he said, taking into account the boxes.

“Hey, I'm Chris.”

“Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

After a few more minutes, Melissa and Barry ended up joining. There were five places set, but Ryan hoped for a sixth to join. Everything on the table and people starting to eat. “Ryan tells me you're law enforcement,” Barry said.

“Yep, I'm a cop. NYPD.”

“She's in the intelligence unit, just made detective,” he said, proudly.

Melissa asked, “Is this protect and serve a family tradition?”

“Well, my dad, his brother, was a fireman.”

“And my Dad was a cop, and my uncle was a cop,” he said.

“And Mike's FBI, like him and Aunt Debra were.”

Chris chose that time to interrupt. “Now, Max told me to be heart healthy, so there's no guarantees,” he said, fruit and pastry on the plate. 

“It looks good.”

It didn't take long to get through the dessert, and Max decided to help Ryan clean up while the other three talked. “I really like Barry,” she said, “He's your sponsor, right?” He turned around and shushed her. She figured. “That Melissa chick is hot.” He gave her a questioning look. “For you. You should get on that.”

Fine, if she was going to give advice, so would he. “I like pastry boy.”

She laughed, “Really? I wish he were angrier.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I know what tonight is really about.”

“Yeah, I thought this week might be a little rough on you. Is it?”

He thought about it for a minute. Yeah, it was hard, thinking about the deaths of two women he loved. “Well, it's there, smacking me in the face everywhere I look.”

She nodded. “Distractions can be nice.”

 _At least I have distractions._ Max walked behind him and he laughed at the face she pulled. After the rest decided to leave, even Max, Ryan was left alone in the apartment to finish cleaning. He didn't get to sleep until after midnight. He worried, tossed and turned, until something dragged him into sleep.

Waking up, he went on his normal routine, came back and turned on the TV. It wasn't the normal daytime heads, and he started listening when he heard dead. It's when they said Joe Carroll's cult that he paid attention. At that, he needed to get more information. Changing the channels, he managed to find a source that was telling the complete story. Five people were murdered on a subway, and there was one survivor left. He didn't get what the possible connection to the cult was, unless people were only guessing due to the proximity of the anniversary. 

He hoped it was just some knock off event, and nothing worse.

-

Mike was watching a different channel, but the same news clips that Ryan had seen. Unlike his father, he wasn't bothering to do anything. The day was probably going to be the same as it was yesterday, and last week, and a month ago. Which is why the table in front of him was messy, there were cans and bottles that indicated that he had been drinking, and why Drake was curled up on his lap sleeping.

Oh, and he hadn't changed from his sleepwear since yesterday.

Not like that mattered much. He hadn't been to work in about a year. OPR and the DOJ and whoever wanted to run an investigation on what the hell happened last year meant that he had to wait out all the outcomes before he could even be brought back to the FBI and the BAU.

If he was.

It was something on his mind most of the time. He couldn't stop Dad from killing Alex. Mom was kidnapped and killed. He was kidnapped, almost killed, then tortured by Joe Carroll himself when he came back too early and without an eval. The whole case was a mess and they handled it to the best of their abilities, which weren't that great considering they had leaks and moles and problems with laws stopping them from doing anything. Knowing that he did everything to the best he could and yet still might lose his job like his father played havoc with his already tenuous hold of his emotions.

Good thing there was beer. And something stronger hidden for later moments.

He was gazing at the screen as it repeated facts when he saw someone pull up to his house. He wasn't sure if he recognized the man stepping out, but the suit was what convinced him the guy was probably an agent, and he had someone along with him. _Great, there's a knockoff of the cult and I'm probably being arrested, finally._ He moved Drake off his lap and grabbed the alcoholic beverages before putting them out of sight and getting jeans on before answering the door.

“Hello, Mike,” the man said.

“Agent Phillips, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I'd like you to come to New York,” he stated, “You're a walking case file.” That fucking hurt. He wasn't an agent at the moment, he was a case file for other agents to use. “You could be a great deal of help.”

“You want me to consult?” _Not an agent, a consultant. Is this what Dad felt? Useless until we called him up?_ “I'm not active. OPR suspended me till my review in January.”

“Grand Jury made no indictments. You were cleared,” he told him, “Come to New York. If all goes well, I'll take on OPR.”

He couldn't deny it. Mike needed to get back to work. If it took being used like a case file and a consultant that people will stop listening to after he told them something, fine, he'll take it. He accepted and the agents left for an hour while he packed for a journey up to New York. Drake climbed around his suitcase and whined when he took some of the shirts and other items out and packed them. “Trust me, I don't like this as much as you do,” he said, scratching his head. After making arrangements to have his next door neighbor come over to take care of Drake, he walked down and waited for them to come back. _If they remember. Who the hell would want to work with Ryan Hardy's kid now?_ He groaned, sat on the step of his house and whispered, “What the hell am I doing?”

-

Ryan figured they were going to pull him back in. Who wouldn't? Three guys wearing Joe's face, supposedly killing people in his name. Yeah, he kinda knew they would want the original consultant for Joe Carroll.

He should have known they would have brought Mike back in as well.

Mike looked uncomfortable, standing in the hospital. Understandable, considering the last few times haven't been the greatest moments of their lives. Hospital visits rarely ever were. “Heya, Mike,” he said, reaching out.

_**Seven months earlier** _

_Mike was surprised at the new apartment. Better neighborhood, definitely more money than he spent on the last one. He walked in and up to the new door, knocking a few times. He wondered how Ryan was able to see out with no peephole. “Hey, Mike,” he smiled, happy to see his son after a few months of not being able. He reached out and hugged him tightly._

_“Hi, Dad,” he said, reciprocating before moving in. He saw the screen right by the door and figured a camera somewhere. He looked in the kitchen and saw he was making healthier versions of the baked chicken with homemade mac and cheese, Mike's favorite meal. There were even the makings of a salad that were half cut and mixed in a bowl. “I don't believe it. I heard that you were doing better, but....”_

_“You doubted me?” he asked, holding his arms out._

_Mike nodded, “Yeah, yeah I did.” The fact his father was going to the doctor was strange. He knew the man didn't go after Jenny's pestering during the ten years he closed everyone out. He thought after their deaths he would sink back into the same pit that he went to after Carroll's imprisonment. Instead, he was actually doing well._

_He set out the meal and Mike marveled that he didn't even have any alcohol with the meal. 'No alcohol? God, Dad's actually doing better than me.' “How's.... How's Joey?” Ryan asked, unable to keep his curiosity down._

_“As far as I know, okay. His grandmother agreed to witness protection, they're in the program. I don't know anything after that.” They kept silent for a few more minutes after._

_“Anything on your review?” he asked._

_He shook his head. “Nothing yet. OPR's running the show. They're probably trying to find something to pin on someone. Donovan retired after being evaluated. Mom's dead. You're not technically an agent.” He stared down at the remains on his plate. “The, um, the grand jury is coming up. We both have to testify.”_

_“Yeah, I know.”_

_“When you left,” he cracked, then cleared his throat, “Turner came by. I don't know why, but someone took off the handcuffs. So, neither of us handcuffed him.”_

_“Mike....”_

_“He lunged at you, you fired your gun in self defense.”_

_“Hey,” he stopped, lightly taking Mike's chin and having him face him. “You are not covering for me.”_

_“You want to go to prison? Because that's probably what would happen.”_

_“It's my fault, my problem.”_

_“Mom said take care of me. How can you do that if you're in jail?” Ryan had to pause, because Debra did tell him that. But she also wanted Mike to be truthful, honest, and here he was using lies to cover up what Ryan did at one point. Mike takes the time to continue. “You don't remember anything, you were emotional that day. You acted impulsively. They won't believe or condone it, but they'll accept it.”_

_Ryan hated that Mike was doing this. “Don't lie for me,” he restated. Mike almost wanted to say 'Too late', but he figured that wouldn't be the greatest thing to point out._

“Hi, Ryan,” Mike said, trying to keep personal life out of the case and just shaking his hand. He noticed the tiny bit of hurt in his eyes.

“So, what am I doing here?” he asked.

“Not sure, I'm still wondering how I fit in.”

Agent Phillips walked up before either of them could explain further and introduced himself. Then, the woman also introduced herself. “Special Agent Gina Mendez. I need to ask you, have you been contacted or engaged in any way regarding last nights events?” she questioned.

“No.”

“Have you been in contact with any known or unknown followers of Carroll's cult in the last year?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you know that could help us find who did this?”

“No.”

Mike thought he saw something with the last response, but didn't comment. He didn't know what the man had planned. Mendez apparently figured that he was lying or that his help wasn't going to be great. She walked off. Phillips stayed behind to play peace maker. “We value your input, so if there's anything you can add.” He followed.

“The witness, Lily Gray, art dealer in Soho, survived with several defense stab wounds,” Mike informed.

So, that why they were at the hospital. Phillips and Mendez were ready to interview the woman, standing right next to her bed. Mike stood a few feet back and Ryan was standing behind him in the back. “They were yelling and screaming through their masks,” she told them.

“What were they saying?” Phillips asked.

It took a couple of seconds for her to get it out. “Crazy things. 'Resurrection.' They kept repeating it, chanting it. They said 'Joe Carroll lives,' and then they attacked.”

Mike looked back to Ryan. He did not like that. Ryan kept staring at the woman, ignoring his stare. “Did they say anything else?”

“Ryan Hardy can't stop us.” Okay, now everyone looked back to Ryan. He bowed his head at the attention. Phillips thanked her and they started filing out. Ryan was the last to leave. “I take it you're Ryan Hardy.” He doesn't say anything, feeling slightly uneased by the fact he was mentioned by name. And hearing Joe again. “Why did they do this?” He couldn't come up with an answer. At least, not a good one. Phillips interrupted them and he walked out after, staying silent.

The group headed over to the newly set up command center for the subway attack. Mike had seen it once, when he got to New York. He knew the basics of what was going on in the center, and an old memory of showing his Dad what the areas were in the last one shot up in his head. “The MTA only has cameras installed in forty percent of all city trains,” Mendez informed, “That video wasn't luck, they wanted us to see it, performance art.”

Phillips asked, “Can you pull up the video from the adjoining cars?”

“No. The trains only have cameras every other car, which they knew. They're slick.” She got up to two techs that were going through data. “Okay, guys, what do you got?”

“The hoodies were newly purchased, hadn't been washed. Sold in souvenir shops,” one stated.

“The mask is molded silicone, hand-painted, very pro,” the other added.

“All right, Mister Hardy, don't be shy. Are these your cult boys or a new fan club?” she asked.

“Could be both,” he said.

Mike started talking, taking pressure off of him. “Thirty-seven members were identified in Havenport. Seventeen were killed, seven in custody, five were arrested in the last year.”

“Well, that makes eight acolytes still out there,” she said.

“Unless those eight found eight more, and found eight more.”

Yeah, that was a problem. “Let's just start with the three on the train.”

“What about surveillance footage? Building a video trail?” he asked.

“It's in the works. Hopkins.”

He brought it up on the larger screen. “The three hooded men exit at Canal.”

“We pick them up on West Broadway going uptown.”

“Then two turn right and one goes solo, eastbound.”

“More to come, more businesses are volunteering their surveillance footage, and then we have men going door to door with court orders for the rest,” she said.

Mike asked for a little space, brought out his tablet and hooked it up into the mainframe so he could access and compare.“Can you body scan the three suspects?” Hopkins worked after he asked. “These are our known Carrollers.” After he said that, he wished he had gone with a different saying. That sounded bad, like Mom's naming of Carrollism. “Let's create pre-viz for males only.” After a minute of going through the profiles, the computer found one that matched just over three-fourths of the way to one hundred percent. “Match. Carlos Perez.” Ryan looked up at the information and noted the name and face. “He's on our list, one of the Havenport guys. Been MIA for a year.” He turned back to the other man to see if he was paying attention.

“How sure are you?” Phillips asked.

“Seventy-five percent match.”

“That's good enough for me.” He turned to a junior agent behind him. “Issue a statement, get his face out there. See if the public can help identify him.”

“What about the other two?” Mendez asked.

“They're new to the party,” he said.

Phillips turned back to Ryan. “Is this new cult, old cult, fan club, copycat, groupies? What, Mister Hardy? Anything?”

He didn't let them in on his thoughts. “Yeah, I wish I could be more help, but you know, I haven't really kept up with the case.” Mike's looking at him, not believing a word he's saying. “I'm strictly civilian now, so if there's nothing else, I'd like to go.” Nobody actually said it was okay, but he left anyway.

It didn't take long for Mike to follow. “Hey,” he said, playing catch up. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“We didn't find them all, they're recruiting more and you want to go home?”

“Yep.”

“It's the anniversary of Joe's death. It's not an isolated incident, they were wearing his face.”

“I know, Mike.”

“They're trying to resurrect his legacy and you're walking away?”

“I considered running,” he quipped.

 _Dad._ “Ryan Hardy can't stop us. Joe Carroll lives.” he quoted.

“I got it. Messaged delivered,” he said, waiting for the elevator to come up, “I want no part of this, Mike. This is over for me, all right? I'm done.” He walked in. “Watch out for yourself, okay?” The doors closed and Mike was left standing there while his father parted.

-

Of course he wasn't going to give this up.

Ryan called Max in the car while he was going home. She told him she had an hour left, and then she would be there. While he waited, he entered in the room. The walls were covered with pictures and notes. Followers, dead, in prison and loose were on a wall along with a map tracking movements. The other one had people he lost, Claire, Debra, other officers and victims of Carroll's cult. He knew something was going to happen around this week. It didn't take much to think that some of Joe's followers were planning something in his memory. _Or to get him out in the open._ He was double checking something when he heard the buzzer and went to let Max in. “I came straight from work, so you better have food,” she told him, walking inside.

After allowing her to raid his kitchen for snacks, he moved her back to the room. “Carlos Perez, you remember him?” he asked, trying to find the file he wanted.

“Is he the one with the four IDs?”

 _Got it._ He opened it while looking at the map. “You tracked him to New York using Rick Ruiz and Tony Sanchez.”

“So, Carlos is one of the subway killers?”

“Person of Interest.”

 _One of the killers._ It wasn't that hard to see through Ryan. “Let me boot,” she said, starting up her computer. “The Feds brought Intel on, advisory. I almost signed up for it, but then I remembered I'm part of the Ryan Hardy secret task force.” It wasn't that funny. Maybe a little. “So, is it Joe's old cult?”

“Carlos is. Don't know about the other two.”

“And did you share what you know with the Bureau?” _Maybe Mike, your FBI son and my agent cousin?_

“What, this? This is a hobby.”

“Five people were killed. This isn't a hobby.” She got into the NYPD database and got the information on Perez. “Okay, here we go. Last Intel had Carlos using the monkier of Ruiz. I have prints and handwriting analysis from several bad credit cards obtained from his girlfriend.”

“She had told me he moved back to California.” Great, now he had to factor in that the girlfriend may also be involved. He turned back to the map and started connecting points. “Check Robert Diaz. It's a name I pulled from her place.”

Are the Feds aware you found this guy's girlfriend?” she asked.

“I lost her, what's the point?”

It took her a minute to find something in the database. “His Ruiz ID has a signature match to a Robert Diaz, short-term rental application on Avenue D. He's using a new fake.”

Ryan came up by her, reading over her shoulder. “Avenue D, huh?” He wrote down the address.

“Hey, um, now would be the time to tell the FBI this information,” she said.

He's not rising that much, more focused on getting over there before the guy cleans out. “Yeah, you're probably right. So, Max thanks for stopping by.”

“No cab fare?” she asked. He's already got a coat on and she can see the line of a gun. “Hey, go to the FBI. At least, tell Mike what you've been doing.”

He shook his head. Ryan wanted this away from Mike. “They'll figure it out.” _If the FBI figures it out, then Mike will have several armed people around him when they start going around._

“Seriously, Ryan, I know I've been enabling you, but maybe it's time we stopped this.” 

“Can you lock up when you leave? Thanks.” He walked off, leaving Max to glare at the empty space.

-

The call came in just as Mike was going to take a long drink from the beer he got on the way back to the motel the FBI were putting people up in. He sighed and put it away before grabbing his jacket and walking out with Phillips. He saw the woman sitting on the bench reading before he realized the woman was actually the victim. She was posed to look like she was reading. Someone had taped a copy of The Gothic Sea to her hands and he saw rope keeping her up. The hand shaped bruising on her neck made him flash back and he had to clench his hand to keep them from reaching up and checking his own neck.

They were talking to each other about probable meanings behind it. Mike knew it was something for Joe's cult. Phillips and Mendez spotted Ryan first, Mike's back to him. “I got it,” he said, walking over. “What are you doing here?” _I thought you didn't want to be a part of this._

“I was in the neighborhood,” he claimed.

“Yeah, right.”

He reflected for a second on the change in attitude. “What's going on?”

“Heather Clarke, some joggers found her, twenty-four, dancer in the chorus of 'Gypsy'. She lives in the building across the street, where she was killed and moved here,” he said, turning to him, “It's from the book, right? White dress, blonde hair, red lips.”

“Yeah, Gwendolyn.”

“Claire,” Mike disputed, “She supposedly was the inspiration, so wouldn't it be more likely?” It was still a sore topic, even a year after her death. He just wasn't caring as much as the moment. Ryan had to know something. “Come on, anything? The murders on the subway were a spectacle, an announcement. This is a specific message.”

He was still wary of the police, not knowing how many of them were part of the cult, the ones Roderick recruited or were part of the militia. “I got nothing,” he lied.

“That's bullshit, Ryan,” he said, “You're acting like you're over it, but something's still bringing you back. You care and you don't know how not to. If you know something, tell us.” _Tell me._

“Sorry, Mike.”

Fine, if that's how he wanted to play it. “Why did you request Carroll's DNA records? Six months ago, you requested the full report.”

“I wanted to see if for myself.”

“What, you weren't convinced by the flaming structure he died in? The DNA matched Joey.”

“I don't know where you're going with this, Mike.” Lie, he does. “Joe is dead.”

“Then why act like he might still be alive? He's dead, Dad.” Ryan started walking off unless he spilled what he learned from Carlos. Mike stopped him, swung him back around. “What don't I know?”

 _Too much, Mike, too fucking much._ He wasn't going to give him nightmares, not new ones. Not after the ones he learned about. “Nothing. Be careful and take care of yourself, Mike.” He pulled his arm away and Mike didn't stop him as he walked back to the street. It was time to see what Carlos had for him.


	2. For Joe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and Ryan Google each other. Mike has a study buddy at the FBI and Max is frustrated at her uncle. ~~I don't blame her.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't blame me for the last two paragraphs. It hurt writing them.

Mike didn't wake until light filtered through the window. It was slow getting up and around, but he was ready for the knock on the door. The center was already busy with agents that must have came in earlier to start working. He didn't know how to feel about not being part of them anymore. Is it a good thing that he lost the wide-eyed enthusiasm that drove him last year? Or did it mean he was becoming an agent that was just trudging along on the case, not really looking at the clues and missing things others couldn't see either?

He was pulled from his musings by Phillips and Mendez talking about physical evidence from the woman's apartment and her body. Hearing about the disabled cameras, he commented, “The perps were careful. They needed time with her. They spent the day there, cooked breakfast. The neighbors heard laughter, music, a male singing.” Thinking about it made him worried, wary, about the new people they were up against.

“And no sexual assault?”

“No, it isn't sexual.” Sexual would be understandable. Horrible, but understandable. Just playing with someone like a puppet, a doll. That was what worried, scared him. “It's an intimate experience unlike the subway murders. That was theatrical, an announcement. It's the anniversary of Joe's death, don't forget. They miss him, and they're letting the world know, but the girl on the park bench is a message, specific for someone.”

“The girl reading on a park bench,” Mendez said, grabbing his attention, “It occurred in Gwendolyn's memory, in Carroll's book, The Gothic Sea, where Carroll wrote about loneliness, isolation, and solitude.” Okay, now he's curious. Most people don't know the in-depth topics of Carroll's book. “You looked surprised. I did my dissertation on Carroll at the academy just like you.” Hey, someone that gets it unlike the rest of the FBI. “Now what I don't understand is why they haven't made contact. I mean, they've got the whole world watching, and these types of murders come with bragging rights.”

“Because it's not for us,” he said, “It's for the Havenport members that are still out there.” _It's for Joe._ It was a nasty thought running through his head after talking to his father. _Joe is dead. Joe is dead. Joe is dead._

-

Ryan wasn't sure this was such a great idea.

He had looked up Lily Gray after cleaning himself up from last night's hit. Now, walking toward her gallery, he wondered why. Debra used to tell him he over-identified with the victims. He wondered if that was the reason he was drawn to her. It hurt too much to think that it had to do with the similarities to Claire. Although, he couldn't doubt it. He just forced it back. Ryan spotted the patrol car that was watching over and just walked on in. He spotted her talking to a client, but he knew she had spotted him when she turned around. She finished and walked over to him. “Ryan,” she said, “It's nice to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. I was hoping we could talk. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“It's about Joe Carroll,” he said.

Not exactly a topic to discuss in public, unless one wanted to invite panic. “Oh.” They walked along until there wasn't a nearby patron. Ryan's question had already been asked, by Mike no less. “The FBI already asked that question. Agent Weston, I believe. I never met Joe Carroll.”

“Is there a chance you wouldn't know that you know him or that you forget having met him? He used to teach at Winslow University, grew up in Oxford, in the UK.”

“No, I've never been to Winslow University. I've been to Oxford, but I've been to many places.” Dead end. “I live in Paris half the year, grew up in Denmark, travel all over the place. Why would anyone think I know him?”

“Well, you're the only surviving witness, so it's job procedure to ask why.”

“But, you're no longer with the FBI, right?” she asked. “I searched you online, heh.” _Yeah, same here. Great minds think alike._ “Before yesterday, I knew very little about you and Joe Carroll and his cult. I was abroad most of last year, so I read up on you. ”

“I don't work for them anymore.”

“But you can't turn it off? What's happening, it's hard for you. There's a certain helplessness in it all.” Ryan was just planning on a small talk, and here she was, going deeper into his own thoughts and finding reasons on why he was actually doing this. “You're an interesting man, Ryan.” She began to walk back to the front of her gallery when she turned around. “Your son, Michael, is he all right?”

 _I won't join him on the investigation and left him to a possible mole within the FBI._ “As far as I know. He hasn't called or talked to me since he's working with the FBI at the moment. And I said I didn't want to be a part of it.” _And yet, here I am._

“I read about Agent Parker's death. Do the two of you talk about it?”

“Neither one of us bring it up. Too many memories. It, it still hurts.”

“Sounds like you two should try getting together. It will keep hurting until the two of you talk.”

That sounded like something Debra or Ray would have told him. They were the ones that managed to get Ryan to actually do things. Somewhat finished with his questions, he went home after a few hours of scouting around for Carlos. He got up to his apartment to hear something already moving inside. The security was intact, but he didn't take any chances. Max walked out of the kitchen. “It's me, don't shoot,” she said, before seeing the gun he already had in his hand. She stared at him.

He lowered it quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“I left messages. You don't call me back, I storm your place. That's how it goes.”

“I was gonna call.”

“Oh, really, when?” she asked. His expression read 'not amused'. “What happened with Carlos Perez?”

“I went to his place, he saw me, he ran. I lost him,” he said.

“That's it?”

“And I was hit by a cab.”

She nodded, knowing there was something else other than what she found. Max grabbed the mask she got out of the room. “But you found this?”

He grabbed it out of her hands. “I want my keys back.”

“Too bad. You know these masks have their own task force?”

“Silicone, hand-painted using materials obtained from thousands of different realtors online and everywhere else. Good luck.” He set it back down.

“You're withholding information that you've obtained illegally. You have got to stop playing Dirty Harry and go to the FBI, Ryan. At least, Mike should know.”

“That mask isn't going to help them,” he denied, ignoring the comment about Mike.

“Tell him about Joe Carroll,” she said.

He sighed, “I have no evidence. You know that.”

“You have a theory, a good one.”

“Crazy one.”

“They'll listen to you, they have to. Mike will listen.”

“None of them will believe me. Not even Mike,” he insisted, “Tell me the truth. Do you believe me?”

Okay, she didn't, not completely, not like her uncle. “I think it's worth investigating, and so will they,” she told him.

He wasn't buying it from her. “I was wrong to involve you. Sorry, and I won't do it again.”

“Too late for that, and that's not what this is about. I offered to help, but we're in an iffy place right now. I want to help, but it isn't just research anymore,” she said, sitting down next to him, “And I don't think you should take this on anymore. It's too much and you know what I'm talking about.”

“Mike?” he asked, not even waiting for confirmation. “He'll be fine.”

“Oh, really? He lost Debra, almost lost you, again. Didn't you say that a few times he's called you drunk, at least once crying?” She shook her head. “You know that we care for you, right?” He glared at her for repeating the beginning of an intervention speech. “Fine. Fine. I'll stop. But I'm going to Tarresha's and you don't get any.”

“Hey!” he protested.

Max came back after a half-hour with a takeout bag and set it in the kitchen, forcing him to walk over and join her. He decided to try acting natural. “What happened to that guy you were dating?” he asked.

It was a little surprising. “Really? We're gonna have a normal conversation?”

“I'm trying.” His phone interrupted them, and it came up unknown. “Hello?”

“Hello, Ryan.”

“Yeah, who's this?”

“You can call me Luke.”

Yeah, this was confirmation that something was off. “Trace this call, now.” She was startled, but didn't really object before getting her laptop. He went back to the call. “Yeah, what can I do for you, Luke?”

Max got her stuff. “You have to ping the number on my phone,” she whispered, hoping that she wasn't caught on the receiver.

“I thought it was time to call and introduce myself,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm glad you did, but phone calls are a little impersonal. You know what I mean? I'd rather meet you face to face.”

“Patience. I think we may be meeting soon,” Luke taunted. 

Ryan moved down to his room, where Max was set up and working. “So, talk to me. What have you been up to?”

“This and that. Have you enjoyed our show thus far?”

Max was working on the trace, using NYPD programs to get through. “Well, the subway was a great opening number, and there was a certain poetry to the woman in the park.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

“What about Joe?” he questioned, “Did he enjoy it? I mean, that's who this is all for, right, Joe Carroll?” Oh, touchy subject. It went silent for a few seconds before the call ended on the other side. _Oops._ “Anything?”

She barely noted him walking around. “West Side, eighties, it's still searching.” She was trying to urge the program to go faster. Finally, it landed on a house. She relayed it to Ryan, who was looking over her shoulder and she didn't need to, but she did it anyway due to how things went at work.

“I'm on my way.”

“I'm calling the police.”

“No,” he stopped, “Let me go first and check it out.”

“Ryan!”

“They knew I was going to trace the call.”

“Which is exactly why we need to call the police. And Mike.”

“Then they show up, sirens blazing and these guys are gonna disappear. Worse than that, someone's gonna get hurt and we'll have nothing. They called me, they want me. Let me go first, check it out, and you can call whomever you want.” He ran out of the room before she could decline or argue.

“Damn it.” She sighed, “That's it, I'm calling Mike.” _After I give Ryan a head start._

About five minutes later, she got a call from the man. “What's going on?”

“It's an empty brownstone.” _Great, so the beginning of a horror movie. Or Supernatural._ “We have a signal?”

“Still there. You're on top of it.”

Ryan looked up when she said that. He didn't think 'Luke' would be in the basement. “I think it's on top of me. I'm gonna hang up now.”

“No, Ryan, don't you dare. Keep me on the phone.”

“All right.” _Thank you._ “Hang tight.” He moved up slowly, gun out while he used his phone as a light to guide by. There was nothing on the second floor either. “Still there?”

“”Must still be above you.”

“I think it's on the roof.” He placed his phone in his pocket before heading up. There was no one up on the roof either. He scanned a while before finding a surveillance station. He looked around, trying to see if they were standing behind someone, waiting to murder them in front of him.

Then, the phone at his feet started ringing.

“What was that?” Max asked.

Ryan ignored her and picked it up before answering. “I see you made it,” Luke said. He had to scan until he saw an open door, and a man standing outside it with a Joe Carroll mask. He noted the number and relayed it back to Max before hurrying down and getting across the street to see what they did.

Max disconnected and called up a dispatcher that served the area to get a few patrols over before switching and calling up someone else. “Hey, Max,” Mike answered.

“Okay, so, I probably shouldn't be doing this, but Ryan got a call from one of the subway guys.”

“What?” he hissed, “Why the hell didn't he....”

“Don't ask me, he's your Dad.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered.

That didn't sound good. “Anyway, NYPD should already be heading over there, but it's probably related to the other cases. So, head's up.”

“Thanks,” he said, before ending his side.

Ryan was waiting inside for the FBI. Mike saw a kid waiting by a cruiser and something painful twisted in his gut before he moved forward. Inside, Mendez and Phillips had him cornered, so he ended up in another room, watching the spectacle. “Why you?” Mendez asked.

 _Because I'm the hero. Don't you remember last year?_ “I don't know, ask them,” he said.

“How exactly did you get here?” Phillips questioned.

 _I took a cab. Dumbass._ “I was lured here by phone.”

“Did they give you the address?” he inquired.

 _No, but I can't tell you how I actually got that._ “They.... engaged me.”

He was angry. “Tell me why I shouldn't arrest you for obstruction.”

“Because that would be very stupid of you.”

Bad move. “Excuse me?”

“I seem to be the only one they want to speak to.”

Mendez got in between them before it could escalate further. “Sir,” she said. Whatever she did had him leaving into another room. Then, she turned back to Ryan. “Look, I recognize your special relationship to this case, but if you keep this up, I will personally pull your head through your ass.”

Mike barely kept his laughter down before joining his father after she left. “You know, that's gotta be one of the more interesting threats I've heard,” he said, getting a little fun out of it. Ryan rolled his eyes and tried leaving. He needed to pull him back. “It's the same M.O. Another reference from The Gothic Sea.”

He couldn't help it, engaging Mike. “It's Gwendolyn's parents living under the same roof, but isolated, disconnected from each other.”

“Hidden within the tableaus is their own pathology, starting to emerge. Spent time with them postmortem, just like Heather Clarke. This time, it was house with a mother and a father.” So, maybe saying that specifically wasn't the best way to go, as the man walked out. “Ryan.” He sighed and rubbed his face once before joining someone.

The other man was walking back, using the time to calm down before he got back home. He was only about a few feet away before his phone started ringing. He thought maybe it was Max, and didn't check before answering. “Hello.”

“How'd it go at the crime scene?” Luke asked, “Did they find lots of prints and DNA?”

Where the hell was he? “Does it matter, Luke?” he asked, “They won't identify you because you don't exist, do you, Luke? I saw what you did to the family. The Gothic Sea symbolism was a bit obvious, but it goes deeper than that. You're lonely and you're searching for an identity. Am I warm? You think that if you lure Joe out of hiding, he will magically become the father you never had.”

“Wow, just wow, that's impressive. So insightful, Mister Death. Since we're talking identity, everyone around you dies. You know all about lonely,” Luke taunted. He stopped. _Not everyone._ “Did I touch on something too personal? I'm sorry. You know, I bet Claire and Debra's deaths hurt. Well, too bad, but it's nice to see you getting back out there again. You really have a thing for blonds.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We followed you, Ryan. We know you're crushing on a certain blond art dealer from SoHo, the little victim that got away.” He sighed. “She looks lovely in red. I'd hurry if I were you.” The call ended, and he thought for a split second on going back and telling someone, Mike, that there was a threat, but he figured that it wouldn't be taken seriously, and started hurrying to get a ride to where she was.

Once at the benefit, he raced up to where the action was. The crowd was thick and he had trouble navigating, finding Lily while keeping sight for someone suspicious. His phone rang and he answered it. “You got here fast,” 'Luke' commented, “Did you run the whole way?”

“Don't worry about it. I'm here now. So how about you leave the lady alone? I'm the one you want.”

“Well, yeah, but killing her would get you. Guilt kills, Ryan. I mean, you must blame yourself for Claire's death. How do you sleep at night?” he asked. _Pretty well. Fewer nightmares._ “That's what motivates you. You really think that if you can save all the world's victims, that will ease your suffering.”

“I think killing you would.”

He had kept going back between watching Lily and trying to see who was talking to him. He finally settled on the crowd to try and pin someone. The guy was standing right behind him. “It's nice to officially meet you.” Ryan went after him immediately, but lost him. Warning the agents on protection, he went back to trying to find him. When he couldn't, he rushed after the way Lily and the agents went.

Ryan intercepted Lily while she was running away. She pointed down where she had come from and told her it was the subway killers. He rushed after them and managed to find them before they finished off a man on the ground. Fighting one to the ground, he managed to get his mask off and get a good look at his face.

“Hey, Ryan,” someone mocked.

He looked up to see another one, identical to the one on the floor. _Twins._ The one on the ground managed to get a good hook up before running after his look alike. He pulled out his gun and managing to wing one non-lethally. He still lost them. Instead, he went back to apply pressure to the wound the man had received. While he was getting help, he kept thinking. _If they're twins, then they're probably brothers. Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

Mendez and Mike had to catch up and start searching when they got the call. Neither knew that Ryan had been the one behind it and were busy getting updates from the agents that had been closer. When Mike did catch him there, a small pit of anger started boiling up and he excused himself to go talk to him. “Hey, give us a minute,” he said, nodding to the agent that was talking to him. “You screwed up here tonight.”

“Hey, at least you had agents on her.”

“She's the only surviving witness of an attack, of course we were going to have agents on her. Now, what the hell are you doing here?”

“They called me, engaged me again.”

“And, what, you couldn't take a minute to call one of the many agents on the case? Me included?” he asked. _Why the hell do you have to do everything yourself?_ “Engage the FBI, you almost got two agents killed tonight.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, you're not. You want to get these guys so bad, you don't care who gets hurt. What the hell's going on with you?” _Why are you doing this?_ He started walking off, unwilling to deal with him.

“Hey,” Ryan said, trying to reach out and get him back, “You're looking for brothers, okay, identical twins. I can ID...”

 _What? Now you want to play nice? You know what, fuck this, Dad. You don't want to trust anyone, including me. You're on your fucking own._ “Tell it to Mendez. I'm done,” he ended. Mike turned around so he wouldn't have to see his father's face break at what he did. 

Ryan realized just how hard he screwed up and wondered if he'll get him back at all.

-

Mike stopped by a liquor store before heading back to the motel room. His common drink of beer wasn't going to cut it. He wanted to forget, he wanted to hate. He wanted to be angry. The whiskey he bought was cheap, but he knew it had a burn going down. He grabbed a cup and poured some in before downing it quickly. He did it a second time before realizing he was still dressed. He threw most of his clothes on the floor and took a third shot down before ditching the cup and going directly from the bottle. He dropped down onto the floor next to his bed.

 _Fuck Dad. Fuck Dad. Fuck Dad. Fuck Dad. Fuck Dad. Fuck him and his stupid hero complex and paranoia issues and everything fucking else._ He grabbed the cap and twisted it before setting it on the floor, where it tipped over without problem. “Why the fuck can't he trust me?” he mumbled, random tears starting to fall out. “Why can't he trust me? He knows me, why...” Mike hiccuped and forced his legs up so he could wrap his arms around them and hug them. “I want Mom back,” he cried, “I want Mom back.” _I want Dad back. I want him to talk to me about this. I want to be off this case. I don't want it between us. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this._


	3. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~Not.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smartass Mike. He he.

Ryan came into the FBI tired. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Nightmares that twisted with everything, like his class being replaced by followers, Joe showing up at his door with a bloody knife and others kept him up. While he waited to be invited into the little hub, he sat and fell asleep, going into another nightmare.

This is how Mike found him. He saw him twitching in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about. _Probably something guilt inducing and horrific._ He had a few of those. Mendez wanted him awake for what they found, and he was chosen for the honor. _Thanks a lot._ “Hey, jackass,” he said, kicking his foot. He started awake, then realized where he was and who was in front of him. “Ready for you.” He didn't wait, just went back with Ryan following.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Mendez said, not actually sounding sorry, “It's been a long night for all of us.”

“Can I get a coffee?” he asked.

“Sure, get him a coffee. We got the footage from last night's benefit. Mike,” she led.

_Oh, thanks._ “You went in through the main door. You had him on the phone,” he narrated, watching the surveillance like he was.

“I see him there in the corner,” he pointed out.

They brought up an enlarged version, then the twin's. “And that's his twin standing behind you.” He didn't realize one had been so close to him. If he had known.... “Let's get their faces out to the public. Run it by Phillips. He's briefing the mayor, he'll want to issue a statement.”

Ryan stopped paying attention and found another screen with Lily waiting for the subway. Mendez came up behind him. “Don't over-identify with the victim, Mister Hardy.”

He looked over at her. _Debra told me the exact same thing._ “Excuse me?”

“I know you care about her, but you almost got that woman killed. Try to resist.”

Mike snorted, finding amusement with her berating. “Here's your phone back,” he said.

“Thanks,” he muttered, “Anything?”

“We found a disposable in a trashcan four blocks from the museum.”

“Yeah, well, they're using burner phones. Swapping them daily so they can't be traced.”

“Why thank you, Captain Obvious,” he said sarcastically, “We hadn't thought of that.” He sat down when his father glared at him, so he could show the next part. “But we managed to create a video trail using surveillance footage after the subway massacre. We followed the three suspects from the station. The twins outmaneuvered the cameras, but Carlos led us forty-seven blocks to his apartment.”

_Shit, they got me on tape._ He looked up at the squeal of tires and his hit with the cab. Mike looked up at him, smirking. “That had to hurt.”

Ryan avoided the urge to hit him, fairly sure that Mendez wouldn't like it. Speaking of, the woman got his attention again. “We found your prints all over the apartment. Kind of have to cooperate now, so why don't you start?”

He wasn't getting out of this. “Okay, truth. I went looking for Carlos, I found him. He got away, I chased him. Taxi, splat.”

“What did you take from the apartment? Don't lie because we have the footage.”

“Duffel bag with some clothes, toiletries, a Joe Carroll mask.” _God damn it._ Mike could not deal with his father. Neither could Mendez. “I'll turn it all in to you.”

“Obstruction, vigilantism, contaminating a crime scene, tampering with evidence,” she listed.

“Are you arresting me?”

Mike wanted to, even standing up in case he was allowed. He wanted to challenge him. “No, I'm not. You're free to go,” she said.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said.

“No problem.” Ryan looked over at his son again, but he didn't see him willing to talk to him. So, he left. And Mike sat down in his chair, his actions getting to him. Once he was far enough away, she asked, “You got a signal on Hardy?”

“Got him,” Hopkins confirmed.

“He knows you got a court order and you're tracking him,” he mentioned, just to point out that they couldn't really follow him well enough. _It's not going to work._

“Good. Monitor his online activities as well.” He stared at the computers while the action happened. “Are you sure you want to go over to his apartment?”

“I'll be fine.”

“Really?” she asked.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

-

Ryan decided to visit Lily. He didn't care that they would know. He saw someone that should be protected, even if he wasn't the best one for it. One of the agents protecting her walked him up and announced he was there. Her apartment was not surprising, considering her background. Tastefully decorated, a few art pieces hanging and siting around. They waited for the agent to leave. “It's good to see you,” she said, smiling openly.

“How's David?” he asked.

“David's in good spirits,” she reported, “I was with him in the hospital all morning. They'll release him tomorrow.”

“I'm so sorry, for everything.”

She laughed him off. “You keep apologizing. It's not your fault.”

“Yes, it is.” _They're taunting me and putting innocent people in the way._

“Will the FBI find them?”

“Eventually. These are very smart, organized people. As insane as they are, Joe Carroll's groupies are beyond resourceful.”

“But when they find them, there will be more,” she said. He lowered his eyes. _That's the problem._ “This is what's become of our society, this obsession with violence, the need to express it in its purest form.” He saw the painting she was looking at, a strange combination of human bodies and animal heads. “I much prefer it in art.” 

That set off alarm bells. He remembered what he said about Joe. The man created 'art.' “Yeah, well, I just came by to check on you, so I should probably be going,” he told her.

“Will you be back, check in on me again?”

“Yeah, sure, if you want.”

She huffed. “I'm getting used to having you around.” Lily decided to move a little closer. “Do you mind if I ask? You and Michael, what happened?”

Tough subject, and he couldn't really say too much without giving something about his side investigation away. “I, uh, I ended up doing some things that he or the FBI weren't too happy about,” he explained, “He's not happy that I'm not telling him things.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Yeah, I think I've insinuated a few things and he's hurt.” _I don't trust the FBI. Meaning I don't trust him._ “Decided on acting, mostly professional and cold.” _And smiling at my failures._

“How do you feel about it?”

“I understand it. I don't like it, but I understand it.” He really did want to get home before anything else happened. “I should really go.” She nodded and he said bye before finally leaving.

Getting back to his apartment, he opened the front door and realized the security alarm didn't go off. Surprised, he saw someone had deactivated it. _Maybe it's just Max again._ He didn't take the chance and pulled out his gun before moving in. He saw the door to his room had been broken open and he carefully looked inside.

Mike was sitting on the couch, holding a folder and reading it carefully. He noticed the picture of Debra was gone until he saw it beside him. Without even looking up, he muttered, “You fucking jackass.”

-

Mike had been given the green after they saw him heading toward Lily Gray's place.

He knew why he was chosen. Ryan Hardy's son, he probably knew what the man was hiding. At the very least, he would be able to get through the door and find whatever the hell the man was hiding from them. He remembered the code, the man giving it to him when he had visited a few months back. It hadn't changed, and he was grateful, otherwise he would have had to destroy the panel and he didn't want to do that. He didn't even need to check around, going directly to the room his father never told him about and broke the lock before walking in.

He couldn't believe the intensity of all the information the man had gathered. One wall was dedicated to victims, Claire and Mom up predominately along with others that took a few minutes to place. The other was all of Joe's followers, who was dead, who was captured, who was around. At the center of it all was Joe Carroll himself. Supposed movements, notes on sightings. He saw evidence of months long research. Moving around, he caught the glimpse of dozens of weapons in a closet. Perez's duffel on a couch with a Carroll mask sticking out. All of it just completely swam in his head and he slumped on the couch. “Why were you hiding this from me?” he mumbled to himself. 

It took him a few minutes to get back up, but he decided to see what the man had found in his spare time. Mike carefully took the photo of Mom off the board and stared at it before grabbing a case file and reading. He was engrossed in it when he heard the front door open and just knew it was his father. The room's door swung open and he said, “You fucking jackass.”

“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked, putting his gun away.

He laughed, hollow, “I should be the one asking you that.” He stood up and threw the file close to where it was. “So, this is getting your life back together? Getting sober, healthy. All a lie.”

“It wasn't all a lie.”

“Really? Because it looks like a goddamn lie. How long?” he questioned, “Did you have this going when I came over?” He didn't even need the answer, knowing him well. “Of course you did. The times I came over, thinking that we could possibly move on, and you had this fucking room just a few feet away.” He was hurt, angry, his father had kept something that involved him as well and that he thought they were over. “You've been hunting Followers. You found Carlos. What else?” He picked up another file that he was interested in. “Joe? Talk, now.” Ryan ignored him for a minute to gather everything he had gone through. “We know Max is involved.”

“She's not, Mike,” he stated, trying to keep her out, “Not anymore. Do not go after her.”

He huffed. “I know Max also, Dad. She likes being around you, and if that meant helping you with some hair-brained thought about finding followers, then she is.” He switched over to him. “Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Why do you think Joe is still alive?”

“Doesn't matter, you won't believe me. Conspiracy theory, nothing else. No proof.”

“Well, obviously, you think there's something to it,” Mike said, “Tell me and let me decide.”

Story time. “When I was doing research on Joe, I went to England and visited the town that he grew up in. I talked to the...”

“Read the book, Dad, come on.”

“Sat in a local pub, didn't drink. I learned that his father was promiscuous and gossip was that there was a child born from it.”

“And the child....” He was handed a folder that had the information he wanted. “William Halston.”

“Went missing fourteen months ago. I can even place two of Roderick's militia men in the same city at the time he disappeared.”

“And you think it's Halston's body that we found and Joe disappeared?”

“Sam height, weight, body type. And the y chromosome would have been the match to Joey's DNA.”

“I personally pulled the physical DNA from the archive. The stuff that convicted Joe, put him away. _I_ tested it.”

“It was in an archive warehouse. It's in Beacon, and it was broken into fourteen months ago.”

“And you think the DNA was switched,” he picked up. Mike couldn't believe it. “Look, I know mistakes happened, and we underestimated them. What you're suggesting would require a level of detail.... I don't think it's possible.”

“It needed to be a close match in case they ran it against Joey's DNA, which you did.” Ryan could see that it wasn't working. “I know, it's crazy. So am I.” He turned to look at him for that comment. “Don't deny it. Debra confirmed it half the time.” 

It took him a minute to come up with a response. “You have earned your crazy, Dad. But it's not about that. You think if you can find an invisible boogeyman, you can somehow change what happened,” he said, “You can't. I can't. Mom's dead. Claire's dead. And so is Joe. It's time to move on from it.” Ryan wanted to tell him about what Carlos said. He didn't get the chance as Mike's phone went off. “Weston.” He nodded along to something on the other side. “On my way.” He packed up Carlos's bag, the thing that he was meant to be there for.

“What is it?” he asked, “Come on, you know what I know.”

“There's something on Emma Hill. If there is anything there, I will tell you. And I'm not going to tell Mendez about this. She'll arrest you. I'm taking this.” He shook Carlos's bag. Yeah, he figured, on both accounts. Then, he heard something else. “Do you trust me?” he asked. He wasn't expecting that. Mike shouldn't have to ask whether or not he trusted him. “Because you brought Max into this and not me. You won 't tell me anything. You had this hidden right behind my back.”

“You were mourning Debra,” he explained, partially, “I didn't want to bring this back to you and dredge up all those memories. I didn't want to bring this back and get you fired from the FBI.” _I didn't want you bringing this to the FBI. I don't trust them._ “I trust you. All right?”

Mike hadn't thought of that. He just thought his Dad didn't trust him after what happened last year. He nodded, “Yeah.” Ryan pulled him in for a kiss on the forehead before he had to leave and head back to the FBI. _I never wanted you to doubt me, Mike._

-

 

It had been a while since Mike was involved in a bust like this. He was edgy going in, hyper aware of everything going on. The team had the upper floors cleared, but no one had entered the basement. That's where he headed. After he shot her and medics took her away, he realized that he hadn't killed her instantly. A little surprising to him.

He walked out of the house and spotted Ryan standing outside the tape. He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Mendez did that for him. “What the hell is he doing here?” she yelled.

Ryan ignored her, trying to ask questions. “Who else was inside? Was that Hannah?”

“I can't tell you anything.” _Mendez is right behind me, Dad._

“What about Emma? Carlos? The twins?”

“Got everybody but Emma, Carlos and the twins.”

“Enough,” she interrupted, “Mister Hardy, do you know anything about this place?”

“Nope.”

“Then you are of no use to us, and I insist you leave.”

“You got it,” he said.

“As a matter of fact, from this moment forward, this entire investigation is off limits,” she ordered, turning to Mike to emphasis it, before going back to Ryan. “That includes Lily Gray.” Mike shook his head. He knew his Dad better than she did. That was going to be an excuse to go and see the woman again. He already liked her. “You understand me?”

“All right.”

“I will arrest you. Get out of here.” She walked off and Mike muttered 'Later' before following her. Out of earshot of Ryan, she turned around and asked, “Are you helping your father?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She would almost blame him for the man showing up, but she knew that it probably got on the news and spread. “If I catch you helping him out, I don't care what Phillips wants. You're off the case and out of the FBI. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma'am.” She walked away and he wondered what the hell he was going to do.

-

Ryan asked him to come to Lily's gallery with his computer.

Mendez told him that Lily was off limits. Mike knew this was going to be trouble when he went there with his computer to meet him. “You do realize you're not supposed to be here,” he reminded, seeing his father come up from behind a display.

“Berate me later, _Dad_ ,” he nagged. “I need you to check something for me.”

“You are not helping yourself here,” he said.

“I'll go, but I need you to check something,” he insisted. Knowing that the man wouldn't leave, and just become an annoyance, he sighed and listened. “I think I saw something in the command center.”

“What is it?”

“The footage from the subway attack, can you show me? Trust me.”

Mike sat down and grabbed his tablet out before bringing up the file. Ryan hovered over his shoulder to watch. “You're lucky I have a copy. What part?”

“Platform footage, when Lily got on the train. I saw something earlier, I want to confirm it.”

He brought up the file. “What are you looking for?”

He pointed at one of the screens, and Mike brought it up full. “What train is that?”

“The express.”

_She was in a hurry._ “So, why didn't she get on it?” he remembered.

Mike looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Lily said she was in a hurry,” he mentioned. Mike grew a little wary. The thoughts were starting to form together. Ryan was almost there. He started walking over to her, watching her. Lily hadn't been grievously harmed. Barely a wound on her arm that would heal in a week. The group finished off anyone that had run away from them during the attack and yet had left this woman majorly unharmed and able to escape. They had enough time to kill her. Why did she escape? _A blonde, intelligent, attracted to me, not angry with me. Close resemblance to Claire, a duplicate of Claire. Attacked but not killed by Joe._

_She's in on it._

Ryan came to the realization just as she saw he had. She left the little group she had been talking to and walked down the stairs to the basement. Mike walked up to him. “Is she....”

“She's in on it.” 

Mike radioed over to the woman that had walked her down, but they discovered her lying on the floor. “Damn it,” he muttered, radioing it outside, “Agent down. Lily Gray is considered armed and dangerous.”

Ryan had gone ahead to find her, stopping in a storage area of sorts. He had no idea where she went, he knew this was the only direction that made sense. Mike came in behind him and they found the hidden passage way. They carefully moved forward until hitting a junction. Mike went one way, armed and ready to shoot. Ryan almost followed him, but he saw light and went for the exit outside. A crowd had started to gather around a fallen man, but he scanned and didn't find her.

Then he saw her walking away.

He chased after her and ended up losing her again. She had changed, the dark hair gone. He couldn't spot her again. The crowd parted when he ran at them, but he didn't pick her up again. He climbed on top of a parked car to try and see above everyone. It was useless. _Damn it._ His phone went off and he saw a blocked number coming through. “Hello.”

“How'd you know?” Lily asked. He couldn't tell any major sounds out of the background.

“You said you were in a hurry,” he pointed out, “But you passed up the express.”

She huffed. “I feel like an amateur. And we were just about to have our first date. My loss.”

Ryan got off the car and tried to listen to his surroundings and find where she was. “Tell me where you are. We could still grab a bite,” he said.

“I'm afraid you've ruined our romance, Ryan. Such a shame. I was hoping our children could meet.”

_Children?_ “I wouldn't call it a romance.”

“Oh, don't minimize us. There was something there. I felt it. Am I the first woman you've opened up to since Claire? I'm honored,” she said.

“Why go through so much trouble to get close to me?”

“You're important to Joe, so you're important to me. You were meant to be my gift to Joe. Now, I'll have to show up empty-handed.”

“Well, I can always recommend a bottle of alcohol he might like,” he quipped.

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Look, I enjoyed our time together. I really did. I can see why Joe's so drawn to you. Goodbye, Ryan.” She ended her side and he was left still trying to see her. He almost missed her, walking calmly toward her destination. He ran after her, but she turned the corner and disappeared.

Mike got out of the car that had been following him and Lily. “Ryan, where is she?”

“She's gone,” he said. Automatically, he walked closer to Mike and kept him in his sights. Old fears, ones that he hadn't had to think about for a year, started just popping up.

The agent driving went back to Lily's gallery, where they were interviewing her assistant and others that work there. “What the hell happened?” Mendez questioned, seeing the two walk in.

Ryan shook his head. “I vetted her, did a full background check.”

“We did, too. She's exactly who she says she is,” Mike assured, “The paper trail's too comprehensive to be fake.”

“Well, then, how do we explain the fact that she just got out and walked out of here like a trained assassin?” she accused Mike, then turned to Ryan, “And you, if you're holding anything back on me....”

“I didn't see it, all right?” he confessed. Ryan hated that he was played. He wanted to date again, fall in love again, and this woman had played him using Claire's likeness and his need to protect and he was played badly. An agent was dead, others had been injured because he couldn't see through her charade. “She got by me.”

“I'm not your enemy,” she reminded, “But I need you to cooperate with me.”

“I missed it. People died. You don't want me here,” he said. Mike watched him. He couldn't be serious. More would have died if he hadn't been around. Lily probably would have had the assistant murdered, or other agents. He turned to Mike. “You know. This is why. You know.”

Ryan walked out and he didn't go after him. He wanted to. He hated the fact his father still took on everything as his fault. Instead, Mendez was looking at him and he knew he was in for a night of questions about what he did. And probably some into his answer.


	4. Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are broken between the three as Mike tries to get them to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm right now writing a completely separate story to serve as a bridge between 2x07 and 2x08 in the verse, so some of that might be bleeding in.
> 
> Hopefully not too much.
> 
> Edit: bride, what the fuck?

Max was informed of the newest development when she woke up in the morning. _That's great. Couldn't someone text me that Lily couldn't be trusted anymore?_ Given that Mike hadn't called her, she went over to Ryan's to check on him. After he let her in, he went back to watching the news. Knowing him well, she heated up the water that he usually did for his coffee. “Have you eaten?” she asked. He looked over at her, and didn't answer. “You need to eat.”

“No, I'm good,” he declined.

She was annoyed at being ignored for the TV, so she turned it off on him. Then, walked over with his cup. “Why was she targeting you?”

“I'm the guy that brought Joe down.”

“But if she's a part of it, why would she put herself in the subway?”

“She made herself the victim to get close to me,” he explained, “The wounds were superficial. She knew my background, my history with the case, how I get too attached to the victims.”

She got what he was saying, but she couldn't help point out one note. “I don't think counting Mike as one of the victims works out, considering you're related to him.”

He rolled his eyes, but continued, “She was playing a part.”

“That's sick. This woman has no violent history, no record, not even a parking ticket. She's an art dealer.”

“And as far as the FBI knew, Maggie Kester was a victim of her husband's rage,” he said, “As it turned out, she was in on it.”

“Maggie Kester?”

“She stabbed Troy Riley, Mike's partner.”

Okay, so she sort of remembered the story on that. “Why would she do this?” she asked, making her own cup.

It wasn't a great answer. “To lure him out.”

“Who?” she asked, trying desperately to get a different answer. Ryan wouldn't give her one. “Joe Carroll because he is miraculously alive.” Both thought for a few seconds. “You'll need to prove it. How can I help?”

“No, no, no, no,” he repeated. “The FBI is onto me. Mike told me they knew about you. I'm being trailed and they're watching the both of us. Cell phone activity, internet.”

“Ryan, I work at the NYPD Intel division, I trained with the best CIA techs at the academy. Do you honestly think they could trace anything I do online?”

“Yes, and your cousin's pretty good with the online stuff as well,” he said.

“All right, fine, they can, but it'll take them six months. I know how to bury it,” she stated, “And pick up some disposable phones....”

“You don't even believe Joe is alive,” he interrupted.

“I'm skeptical. I need evidence.”

“I can't let you lose your job over me.”

“I'm not gonna my job,” she insisted, “And so what if I did? You, me, Mike and Aunt Jenny down in Boca, that's the Hardy clan. There's no one else.” It was a wrong subject to bring up, but she needed to. The loss of Debra from their small family and her uncle taking risks was hurting her as well. She sat down next to him. “You know, until last year, we hadn't said five words to each other since my Dad died, and I feel like, you and me, Dad would have liked this version of us. All of us. So, you don't get to decide what I do. Just like you don't get to decide what Mike does.”

“If something happened to you,” he muttered, “Either you or Mike, that would end me.”

She's sure it would. “Now you know how I feel,” Max said.

-

Mike had come in bright and somewhat early to watch them interrogate Hannah, the cult member that he shot. Mendez had already been in with her and they ended up showing him video of the best highlight. Hopkins and Lawrence forward it to a place where the woman had broken down. “Seven hours, that's the best they got,” he commented.

“They'll break her eventually,” she thought.

“All right, what about Lily Gray?” Mendez questioned.

“It's only been a few hours, but here's what we got,” Mike started, “Lily Gray was born in Denmark. She was orphaned at a young age, then taken in by Martin Jansen, a wealthy businessman who died when Lily was in college. She's the sole beneficiary, inheriting all the businesses, properties, holdings, all on the up and up.”

“This woman is a millionaire?”

“Billionaire,” he corrected, “One point four, approximately. Your turn, Hopkins.”

“Her assets are controlled by banks in Belize and Anguilla. You know how helpful their privacy laws are.”

“The money isn't the most interesting part,” Mike said, “Hilda Barkov, a Russian housekeeper who maintained her father's estates, she died giving birth to twin boys.”

“Lily Gray's the adoptive mother?”

“There's no record of adoption,” Lawrence said, bringing it up, “There's no record of the boys after their birth.”

“How does one raise twin boys and nobody knows about it?”

“Probably the same way two FBI agents manage to raise a child and no one knows until the aftermath of working together on the same case,” Mike remarked. He's the perfect example of someone being able to keep a child secret. “All right, my parents used fake names on anything that concerned me, and that continued until I was in college. During the case, I referred to them by name and they did the same with me.”

Mendez looked over at him. “Even from the closest people they knew?”

“Both families knew, except for maybe my Mom's parents. The only non-family relation that knew when I was growing up was Tyson Hernandez, my Dad's partner. His former supervisor Nelson White, found out when I was kidnapped. None of the people that my Mom worked with knew, or the rest of Dad's work related people. There were only two agents that found out during the case.” _One died almost a couple of hours later._ “Claire Matthews only learned when Tyson told her after she and Ryan went to hide with him.”

“He never told her?”

He shook his head. “He, he felt he wasn't close enough to her to tell her the first time they were dating.”

Mendez brought it back on track. “And since Lily didn't have family, she would have been able to keep things under wraps better.” She wondered how often the two had to hide things while working, but got back to Gray. “Have you guys interviewed everyone in her life?”

“Yes,” Hopkins said, “Those closest to her include her gallery assistant, Kimmy Lee. Surprisingly stupid, she knows a great deal of nothing.”

“And her business partner, David Rolland, who was released from the hospital this morning.”

“All right. Well, the twins attacked him at the gallery, but that does not rule out his involvement.”

“He lawyered up, doesn't want to come in voluntarily. Court order's in the works,” Mike told her. She apparently didn't like that very much, walking away. He wouldn't either. Most victims didn't feel the need to lawyer up, and it made him wonder what the man was hiding. _Was he Lily's Tyson?_ Parents liked showing off their kids. She had to have someone that she could talk to about them.

-

Ryan knew that he really shouldn't be tailing Mendez while he had a couple of FBI agents following him. He couldn't help it. Besides, it's not like they didn't expect it. He was watching Rolland's lawyer stonewall the agent and figured that the man wasn't even there. He wouldn't stay at a known place. He wondered about the lawyer.

He took out his second phone, a burner that Max suggested, and called her. It took a few minutes to get her on. “Ryan,” she answered.

“I'm at Rolland's place.”

“The FBI know?”

“You know, with the tails and the possible tracking, I'm not sure.” He leaned back and waved at the poorly hidden agents trying to stay with him. “There wasn't an invite. I'm watching the lawyer stonewall Mendez.”

“Entertaining?”

“A little. I don't think he's there. Do me a favor?”

“Already on it.” He heard her clacking away on the computer. “Okay, he has a house in Sag Harbor. NYPD and FBI are en route.”

“Too easy. Check his attorney, Lisa Withers' credit card. See if she rented a room anyplace.”

“That'll take a minute. I'll call you back.” 

“Okay.” She ended her side and he decided to move away to a location that wouldn't be as easy to chase from. Also walking right in front of the agents. “Hey, how's it going, fellas? Sneakers today, cool,” he said, riling them up.

After a few blocks, he ended up hiding behind a van, watching them try to pick up his location. He thought one of them was about to call in a GPS search. _That's cheating._ He saw them going off in a direction and headed opposite when the burner started ringing. “So, lost my tail. Find anything?”

“No credit card activity.”

“Check her property records.”

“Did it. She has a second property at ninety-second and York, rents it out, currently vacant.”

“Get me an address. Please.”

“Wll do. Be careful, please.” She started the search for the property when she heard a knock on her door. Looking up, she saw her cousin behind an officer. She shut down her screen before he could see the information. “Hey, Mike.”

“Max,” he said. She got up and hugged him for a couple of seconds. “You have an office. I can't believe that. You get an office. I get a cubicle, if I'm at Quantico. Wait, I don't even have my cubicle. I barely qualify for table status.”

She laughed at him and sat back down behind her computer while he took the one next to the desk. She finished her text and sent it to Ryan while he cleaned the chair. “So, is this just an actual visit, since I haven't seen you in a while?” she asked, hanging up her jacket after Mike passed it to her.

He looked over at her. “You know it's not, Max,” he said. He had suspicions when he saw the phone. He sighed, “You need to stop. You're not helping him. You're hurting. And interfering with a federal investigation.”

“Around here, they buy me a drink for that,” she noted, “And you need evidence.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that won't happen yet. You buried the trace deep enough that it would take time to bring it back up.”

She smiled, “So, you can't prove it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can't prove it.” _Enjoy it while it lasts._ “I, uh, I found out about the room. That fucking hurt,” he mentioned, playing with a pen, “Dad thinks he's alive. Do you?”

She looked at him. “I.... don't know. I require evidence.”

Not what he was hoping for. “I've tried talking to him. All right, I want him to stop doing this off the books investigation,” he pleaded, “I don't want to see him getting hurt. Him or you. Okay, and Mendez will have your career if you don't stop. She already threatened to end mine when she saw me giving him small amounts of information. The stuff in the room, that'll lead to arrests.”

“I would love to see her getting my job. My boss loves me.”

Mike had really hoped that he would have been able to convince her to help him stop Ryan. “Look, this is about revenge for Dad. He's switched addictions, from alcohol to adrenaline and hunting down dangerous people. Carroll's dead,” he said. _Lie._ A nasty part of his mind spouted that up. “Neither of us are going to be okay. He continues this, he's going to end up dead. That stupid family curse isn't a curse, it's a warning sign.”

“Stop,” she hissed. He knew he had crossed it. The family curse was not a thing talked about at all in their family. Max had neither of her parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles dying growing up. There was just Jenny, Ryan and him for her. Mike considered himself lucky to get to adulthood with both of his parents and a little more family. But now losing Mom, he didn't want to lose his Dad or Max. “Out.”

He got up and turned back to her. “I'm trying to help,” he said. She refused to acknowledge him. “Nice to see you, Max.” He walked off, slumping at his failed attempt to get his family to stop.

-

Ryan got the address and headed over quickly. He passed by a few people on his way into the building and bumps into one on the way to the apartment. He saw the place had already been attacked and he hurried in, hoping to see if the man had been left alive with a few breaths left to question him with. It didn't take long to find where the struggle was, broken computer and glass. The man was completely dead, killed viciously with something around his neck.

The man was still warm, and he realized that he must have been killed within a few minutes. _Damn it, the woman I bumped into._ He raced out and tried to catch her on the ground, looking for her. He ran, and almost was hit by a car that came screaming out of the underground parking lot. He got a few pictures of the license plate, which he sent to Max before stopping and calling it in.

Within fifteen minutes, the place was swarming with NYPD and a plethora of agents. Mendez was ordering people and Ryan talked to Max for a few minutes before ending the call. “New phone?” she asked, not impressed.

“Yeah, I lost my other one,” he admitted, “Hey, maybe it's with those two agents I keep losing.”

“Right. So that was Lily Gray's people tying up loose ends?”

“Yep.”

“And did you see anything?”

“No.”

“Well, please know that I'm smiling on the inside,” she said.

“Why's that?”

Another agent came up. “Ryan Hardy, please put your hands behind your back,” he ordered, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these right?”

 _Yeah, I do. Do you understand I have a lawsuit waiting for you?_ He kept his mouth shut and started planning on getting Mike away from Mendez.

-

When Max passed on the address where the car had finally stopped over to Ryan. Seeing that parking officers had already gotten to it, she looked around for him and didn't see him. She dialed his burner. “Where are you? I found the car,” she informed his voicemail, “It's parked outside Grand Central Station. I have traffic footage of a woman leaving it. Five five, white, brown hair. It looks like she's gone. Call me back.” She ended it and started scanning the area for the woman. She ended up walking a little ways to see a small cafe set up for those waiting for a train or people. Max brought up the footage and saw the woman she was after sitting at the cafe

Ryan was in the middle of a meeting with Mendez and Mike. He knew he wasn't getting arrested. The woman just wanted to try and scare him into cooperating. Like hell he was. Mendez was gazing at him, annoyed at the side answers and empty ones. “It's like I told you,” he said, “I knew the lawyer was stonewalling, so I went from there. The New York Avenue apartment was easy to find.”

He saw that he had a new message, but didn't answer. “Are we keeping you?” Mike asked.

He shook his head. “Mister Hardy,” she started.

“You can call me Ryan.”

“Mister Hardy, what would you do if you were in my position? Do I slap your wrist again, or do I bring the DA in here and officially book you?”

He leaned forward. “Do you know what happened the last time someone tried to cut me out of the investigation?” he inquired. “It didn't end well and Donovan learned his lesson.” Mike glared at him, knowing he was talking about the kidnapping. “So, let's go with the first one.”

“This new cult, this fan club of Joe Carroll's seeks fame in the worst possible way. They are not done with you. They will kill you.”

“Probably.”

Mike watched him, not believing the man was agreeing to the thought. Mendez knew she wasn't getting anywhere. “Have a nice day.” She walked out and Ryan turned to Mike.

“We want to hold you. Franklin thinks it's a better idea to follow you.” The phone went off again. “Max?”

He didn't answer. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“New phone?”

“Yeah, lost my other one.”

“You mean the one you dropped into a taxi to misdirect the agents,” he pointed out, holding the offended item in his hand. “Want it back?”

“No, I'm good.”

“Ryan,” he sighed. “I'm worried. You're still.... You're still self-sacrificing yourself. Last chance, let me help you.”

He couldn't.... “Not now. Good night, Mike,” he said, leaving him in the conference room. Mike waited a few minutes to gather himself up, wiping close to existence tears away. _Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you._ He couldn't leave yet, but he promised to go to a store before heading to the motel tonight.

Ryan was a few floors away from the command room before he decided to answer his phone. “Hey, what's up?”

“Where have you been?” she asked, “I traced the license plate. It was stolen. Street cop found it abandoned near the Lexington entrance of Grand Central.”

“She's leaving town.”

“Not yet, she's not.”

“What do you mean, where are you?”

“Sidewalk cafe at forty-first and Pershing. I'm staring right at her.”

That scared Ryan. He remembered the body that was left at the apartment, and started running. He managed to get a subway partially down, but it wasn't close enough. “You shouldn't be there.”

“Yeah, I know. How far away are you?”

“Couple of blocks.”

“She's sitting, reading, checking her watch. Seriously, boring for a murderer,” she said, “She's waiting for a train. Let me arrest her, I can detain her until you get here.”

“You know, I have no right to ask you this, but please don't,” he begged, “I'm almost there.”

She looked over to where the woman was beginning to get ready to leave. “This is the stupidest thing I've done, Ryan.”

“Yeah, yeah, it's stupid. I'm almost there.”

“She's leaving.”

“Do not follow her!” he yelled, waiting for cars to go by.

“Then hurry up.” She ended the call so he could focus on running and not getting hit. Max watched the woman and debated on following her. Her uncle said no, but she knew that she was a murderer, connected to the ones on the subway and possibly Joe Carroll himself. There was no way she was going to let her get away. She ended up losing her in the middle of the crowd. Max swiveled around and tried to find her again.

Turning, she ended up being punched by the woman she had been following. _Ow, damn it._ They fought for a minute until she thought she had the woman on the ground and started trying to arrest her. Instead, she got socked in the face. Dazed, the woman ran off while she was bleeding slightly.

“Move!” Ryan shouted, trying to get close to Max.

“I'm fine, she ran into the station. Go!”

He wanted to stay, but knew she was just as stubborn as he was and ran in with her following. They ended up getting sight of her again and chased her down to the platform. Separating at the multiples, Ryan couldn't see the woman. Max did, pointing her out. After another brief round of fighting, where he pulled out his gun and ended up being tackled by civilians, _Where were they when Max identified herself and tried arresting her?_ , he thought he had lost her for good.

Until his phone rang.

“Max, where are you? I've been looking all over for you.”

“I'm on the train,” she informed.

“What?!”

She sighed. “I have her in sight.”

Ryan started panicking.


	5. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _of the way life use to be. Reflections of the love you took from me...._

Max kept an eye on the woman throughout the ride, quickly looking back at her phone when she started turning back. The train stopped and she glanced up to check if she was getting off. It was the second or third stop and the woman hadn't left yet. She checked, and saw her getting up. She dialed quickly. “Max,” Ryan said.

“She's getting off,” she reported, watching her. She didn't know who she was talking to and was trying to hide from reflective surfaces and others. “I'm in Stratford.”

“I'm close, I can't be far.”

“She's calling someone.” Max watched her speak before she turned around. She got behind an I beam just in time, she hoped. Peeking, the woman was walking forward and still talking, obvious to being followed. “She finished and is now going into the street.” Watching, she saw the littering. “Disabled the phone, she can't be traced.” 

“I'm twenty miles, maybe. Do not follow her,” he repeated, not wanting her hurt. “Stay at the station, and we'll find her together when I get there.”

“You are like one of those annoying parents,” she hissed, “Or maybe it's the teachers. Just shut up and get here, my battery's dying and I'm hanging up.” She made sure to have the right person in her sights before moving forward and keeping on her shadow.

-

Unfortunately, Mike's plan of leaving failed to pan out. While going through road blocks and information they got from the NYPD, he ended up getting caught up in the new information that was coming in. Rolland's computer had been wiped by a virus, predictable if annoying as hell. There was nothing from the lawyers and he felt that he might be able to get a beer somewhere soon if there wasn't anything new and he could disappear.

Mendez took that away when she walked up. “NYPD just sent us surveillance footage of an incident that happened on Grand Central Station,” she said, “Pull it up.”

Mike looked up to see his father chasing a woman down to the platforms. “That's him. Who's the woman? Any chance on facial recognition?” he asked.

Hopkins brought up a snap. “No, it's too dirty.”

“What train is it?” she asked.

“New Haven line. It goes though Connecticut,” Lawrence reported, “Thirty-five stops with a switch in Stamford.”

“Is there CCTV?”

“Not on Metro North. I might get lucky at the stations but I need some time.”

Mike spotted someone motioning to Ryan. “Hey, rewind,” he said, “There's somebody else. Go back.” He got the frame he wanted. “Right, stop there. Zoom in and crop, please.” Hopkins brought up the person and he was both surprised and not at seeing his cousin getting on the train along with the suspect. “Goddamn it, Max.”

“Hardy's niece?”

He nodded, “My cousin.” _She got on the train when Ryan couldn't get her. Not in on it anymore, Dad?_

“Hardy was trying to follow that girl. Check his credit cars and when was the last time we saw him?” she questioned.

“He lost his detail two hours ago. Now he's using disposable phones,” Lawrence said.

Mike shrugged, not surprised. He also wouldn't be surprised if Max had done the exact same thing. Mendez turned to the room to announce new orders. “All right, people, listen up. We need to expand our search to include upstate Connecticut and Rhode Island. If they switch trains in Stamford, they could be anywhere. So we need to contact local law agencies at all thirty-five stops.” Mike shook his head at his family's antics and knew he wasn't going drinking tonight.

-

Ryan made it to Stratford in eighty minutes. He drove to the street where Max had texted that she would be. She wasn't out in the open, so he called her to find out. “I'm here, where are you?”

“A block south. She's still walking. How do you want to handle this?”

“We'll figure it out. I'll be right there.” 

He ended up coming up behind her and scaring Max for a second. Figuring out where she was headed, he had Max continue to follow from behind. After about ten minutes of watching, he got ahead of her and stopped her. “Don't move, or I'll shoot you in the leg.”

“Je ne parle pas anglais,” she said.

“I think you understand English just fine. Now come with me.”

She wasn't going for that. “Shoot me. Shoot me. What do I have to lose?” she taunted.

He wanted to, but Max came up behind her and punched her out with one hit. He was surprised at that. She jumped around shaking her hand. “Ow, that hurt. Oh, but it felt good,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “Let's move her before somebody sees us,” he mentioned, putting his gun away before getting a hold of the woman and carrying her to his car with Max. They drove off to a motel that Ryan had looked up that would be needed for what he wanted to do.

-

Mike didn't go and drink, although he wanted to, badly. Instead, he forced himself up bright and early as he could get himself up. After stopping for a coffee and breakfast, he walked in to see Hopkins and Lawrence still going through video feeds and data trails. “Morning,” he greeted, his quip about coffee runs dying when he saw what they had. “What's this?”

“This got flagged by our Carroll alert. A murder victim found in Arkansas, a local prostitute who was pen pals with Carroll while in prison.”

“I remember, she was on the list, interviewed and cleared. Do we have a suspect?”

“Reverend Glen Davis. He and his vehicle haven't been seen since the incident,” he informed, “Also, the woman's daughter is missing.”

“Okay, keep monitoring. Please tell me if you get anything else.” Mike wondered about the woman and thought there might have been something more. Mendez had him going over leads before he was able to fully formulate the main thought in his mind.

-

The two of them worked in shifts in watching the woman they had captured. Max was hard to get up, but she usually realized what was going on in a couple of seconds and traded places while playing on her charging cell phone. He slept quietly. Not peacefully, but he wasn't waking up from nightmares and screaming.

Max was in the bathroom cleaning up a bit, so he was left to watch the woman wake up and notice that she wasn't safe, handcuffed to a bed. “Morning, sunshine,” he quipped. His niece came out when she started hearing the chains rattle. “Don't bother. Everything's nailed down in this place.”

“Hope you're not too uncomfortable,” Max said, “But you kinda deserve it. Let's cut to the chase. Where's Lily Gray?” The woman looked unimpressed by them. “See, my uncle thinks, find Lily Gray, find Joe Carroll.” The woman tried pulling the 'non-English' route again. “What? Huh? Please, no one's buying the 'je comprends' I don't speak English routine. And unfortunately for you, I still remember a good chunk of my high school and college classes.”

Ryan dumped out her bag and finds a few weapons along with some vials of poison and a few other killing measures along with normal things like extra cell phones, wallets and fake IDs. “Wow, you come prepared,” he commented, picking up one of her knives. “So what do you think is gonna happen here?” He slid it open while she was watching. There was no reaction from her.

He knew the news was going to be replaying stories, and it was perfect that Lily was the one on screen. He muted it after allowing it to go after a couple of seconds. “See that? Lily is the headline on every single news channel, and a few non news ones, and soon we are going to know everything there is to know about you and her and the psycho twins, and this is all gonna end, but that doesn't have to happen if you talk to me.” He turned it off, since it apparently hadn't quite gotten through. Instead, he got closer to her to show her his point. “Maybe you can help me with this little dilemma that I'm having here. Max here is a do-gooder. She wants to do the right thing. Me, I'm not interested in the right thing. I'm interested in one thing, and it's not you, Lily or the twins. Joe Carroll, you understand? Joe Carroll killed someone, a couple of people, very dear to me. So what I want is simple. I want to kill Joe Carroll.”

She didn't look happy. He thought something might be waging behind her eyes, but he wasn't sure. He wanted to push her to an edge. Make her decide. “I know what Lily is doing. She's completing a family. It was obvious with the twins. Here's the thing. Joe, he's not a family guy. Do you know what he did to the last woman he truly loved? He choked her, kidnapped her son, and wanted to kill her himself. He got her killed instead. He abandoned his followers to be picked off one by one.”

Whatever he tried actually solidified her against him. “Ryan, she's not gonna cooperate,” Max said.

He wanted to try. “Joe will kill you, and Lily, and everyone else you care about. Let's not worry about that now. I'm gonna make a deal with you. Lily and her little clan can ride off into the sunset Scott free. I don't want them. I want Joe. I want to drive an ice pick through his brain, but if you don't cooperate with me, Max will make a single phone call and the FBI's going to explode in this town. Is that what you want? Because, something tells me, that home sweet home is very close by.” He had been dropping down to get in her face and made it perfectly. “Am I right?”

She spat in his face.

_That's disgusting._ He wiped it off and had a fit of rage, grabbing her throat and choking her. The feeling beneath his fingers was powerful, her life in his grasp and he couldn't help but squeeze tighter.

Max was frightened by the behavior. “Okay, that's it,” she stopped, “I'm calling it in.” Getting her phone out, she hoped that would be the warning he needed to let go. It wasn't, and she was worried about what he uncle was doing. “Ryan, that's enough! Get off of her!” she yelled. She jumped on him and tried to ply him off. She wondered how the hell he could still be this strong with the pacemaker controlling his heart. Unable to get him off, she pulled out her weapon and pointed it at him. “Ryan, you promised!”

Finally, he left her and Max fake-dialed into the FBI. In reality, she had Mike's number up just in case. “Yes, this is Detective Max Hardy....”

“Okay, okay, wait,” she interrupted, “I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you where they are.”

Getting out of the room, Ryan was ready to go to the factory where she was supposed to meet Luke. “Good performance, you really had me scared there for a minute,” Max said, trying to shake off what her uncle had done.

“Had to make it convincing. You weren't bad yourself.”

“You think she fell for it?”

“She's twitchy. She doesn't want the FBI here. We're close.”

“Yeah, but a factory on Bone's road?” she questioned. “I'm not buying it. It's too easy. Do you think Lily's there?”

“Somebody will be. I'm gonna scope it out.”

She argued, “Hey, you could be ambushed.”

“Which is why I need you to stay here with her.”

“No, I'm going to go with you,” she laid out.

“Uh-uh, she's the only leverage I have, okay?”

_Damn it._ She nodded, and he got into the car. “She didn't deny Joe Carroll was alive.” He turned back to her before getting in the car and driving off.

-

Mike was sort of aimless after he found out about his cousin helping his father with a possible suspect. He had gone out and gotten lunch for people before sitting around with pictures and phone tips. He was talking to a tech that was organizing the data trails when Hopkins and Lawrence got him. “Mike, about the Arkansas case,” Hopkins grabbed. Mike left the guy he was talking to and joined them.

“The suspect, Reverend Glen Davis, his car turned up at a gas station near the Tennessee border,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Local police pulled a photo from surveillance footage.” She handed over a grainy picture of someone getting out.

The picture was crappy, showing a young girl and a man. “So, who was in the car?”

“A man and a girl. Now, the girl's been identified as the victim's daughter.”

“But here's the weird part. The reverend David's wife said the man wasn't her husband,” Hopkins said.

“She says it's the victim's brother, a war vet,” she said.

“According to records, the victim didn't have a brother.”

“Do we have images of these two?” Mike asked. Lawrence handed over the second photo. He recognized Mandy Lang from the information and picture pulled up, but the man with the beard....

_It's Joe, it's Joe, it's Joe, it's Joe._ “Do you think this is related to Lily Gray?” one of them asked. Mike couldn't tell.

_Yes, she brought him back from something fucking sick..._ “I don't know. Thanks,” he said. The two techs had to go back to searching. Mendez was off on a conference call, so he left the room and headed to the bathrooms on the other side of the floor.

Mike banged on all the stalls before locking the door to be completely alone.

Then, he allowed himself to freak out.

“No, no, no, no no, no no no,” he repeated, fidgeting every way he could, rubbing his arms, messing his hair up, shuffling back and forth through the room. “It can't.... It can't be real. It's an impersonator, it's a twin, it's a fucking clone.”

_Your father had it right all along. He survived. Hiding all this time, just waiting for the right moment to come back and ruin everything._

“No...”

_Oh now, come, Michael, you didn't think that I wouldn't have a plan for that night? Your father couldn't kill me. Not so simply._

Mike collapsed against the wall at the end of the room, hiding in the corner furthest away from the door with his knees to his chest. His breathing became harsh, and he had to focus to try and stop the panic attack he felt coming. The problem was, he kept remembering everything. He remembered his mother's body on the ground, pale and dirt covered, the coffin she suffocated in right next to her. He remembered the fighting and Roderick's face hovering over him. Carroll and him in that damn room, the hand on his neck, him yelling for Dad.

“Stop!” he yelled, using the outburst to get himself under control.

He should call Dad. Call Max. Warn them. But the only number he had for Dad was the phone he dumped and Max probably left hers behind when she went to arrest the woman. “Damn it.” He forced himself up and waited until the shakiness mostly passed before he could look at himself in the mirror. He was pale and still looked close to breaking down. He splashed water on his face and tried gaining back some resemblance of calm. Once he had enough to actually pass as well as he could, he unlocked the door and thankfully saw no one behind it.

Now, he had to go tell Mendez.

-

Ryan was in a haze. What he had done, acting like one of Joe's people with the woman in the house, killing the woman that they had captured. The woman's confession of killing Max had him in a rage. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it, so he went back to the hotel room to see it trashed. He wondered where the hell her body was, and hoped it hadn't been stolen and posed by those _freaks_ when he heard something in the bathroom.

Max walked out, shirt open and holding a hand towel covered with a little bit of blood. “Where have you been?” she asked. He couldn't answer her, staring. _Not dead?_ “Where's your cell phone? I called, multiple times.” He couldn't say anything, walking over to hug her tightly. Surprised, she raised a hand and patted his back. “Ryan?” She felt him shaking and wrapped her arms around him when he squeezed to make sure.

It took Max about ten minutes to convince Ryan that she was still alive so she could check him over. She felt wetness and got him to take off his shirt to see the wound that he had sustained from Luke. Startled, she forced him on the bed to see it closer. “It's fine, doesn't hurt that much,” he passed off, wincing when he moved. The adrenaline that he had been running off was gone and he started to feel the bruises and strain that he put himself under.

“This needs cleaning,” she pointed out, “And we have nothing in medical supplies.”

“I might have some gauze in the car.”

“Yeah, right. We need actual supplies.” She checked her money situation and decided she could risk running out. “I'm going to find a place....”

“No!” he protested. “I'll be good. All right?”

“No, you won't. Infection can set in fast. You can't risk it and I'm not going to be at the receiving end of Mike's anger.” Ryan didn't want to let her out of his sight. The woman's threat reminded him that Gray and her 'family' was still around. He didn't want to endanger her again. “Hey, I know what you're thinking,” she interrupted, seeing his face. “I'll take my gun with me. You're the one in danger. You can't defend yourself like this. It should only take an hour for me to find a twenty-four hour store and grab a few items.” She tried to give him a reassuring look before grabbing his keys and going outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels a little short to me.
> 
> Same as 1x05. Although this one is still longer.


	6. Fly Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike goes to help his Dad, alone.
> 
> This will turn out well.

Mike was frustrated.

He got the photo from the techs again and brought it to Mendez. She had to see what he saw. Carroll was alive. “Let me get this straight,” she said, “For this to be a photograph of who you say it is, someone would have had to swapped all of the DNA records, both digital and hard copies, know the exact warehouse where the physical DNA was stored and replace it.”

“Let me finish.”

“And replace it with Carroll's illegitimate brother's DNA.”

“Look, the sheriff of Havenport last year, Roderick, aka Tim Nelson, was his number two for a reason. He infiltrated law enforcement for years.”

“That was a Sheriff's apartment, we're the FBI.”

“Several of the people that he recruited were former military, black ops trained, militia. You don't think they couldn't have gotten in?” he asked.

She ignored that. “There are no killer cult moles in the FBI,” she stated.

“There are several key moments not accounted for last year where his cult was ahead of us.”

“And it had to have been a mole? It had nothing to do with incompetence?”

That hit a nerve. “You really think it was incompetence that Roderick and his little group knew that I was the one with Matthews' location?” he questioned, slowly becoming angry with the woman.

“I'm sorry,” she backed down. “Listen, you're a consultant here, and if this case is getting to be too much for you...”

“I'm fine,” he stopped.

“Are you sure?” _I can't afford not to be._ “I was briefed. I know last year left some scars, and your mother's death had to have been hard. Your psych eval's still pending.” He didn't need reminders. It's not like he didn't do that already. “All I'm saying is that you're free to go home. Everyone here would understand.”

He shook his head. “No, they wouldn't.” Mendez patted him before going back to the techs and catching up with new developments. He checked out the picture again and wondered how could anyone keep themselves willingly blind to what was in front of them.

-

Ryan turned on the TV for something to do while he waited for Max to get back with aid supplies. The only stations, other than cartoons and repeats, had the subway murders up, and he decided to just sit on one, waiting for some type of new piece of information that a reporter could get their hand on. A sharp pain at his side and he moved around to alleviate it.

The door opening made him jump up, bringing his gun around to protect whoever was coming through the door. “Relax, it's just me,” Max announced, baseball cap and plastic bags with her. 

He resettled while she started getting things out. “You've been gone a while,” he commented.

“Yeah, funny enough, small town. So, I had to go through a couple of towns before actually finding a twenty-four store,” she said, “Okay, so we have bandages, peroxide, needle and thread.”

“Did you bring any vodka?” he asked. She stared him down until he felt stupid enough to ask the question. She organized herself and walked over to the bed before sitting down to start working on him. “Gizelle knew we were here. If she told somebody, they're gonna be coming for us.”

“Gave the manager fifty bucks to give us a heads-up if he saw anyone. Get you stitched up, then we get out of here,” she said.

“I broke into that woman's home,” he brought up, guilt and worry coming up in equal measures, “I tried to remove the evidence, but I had to make a run for it. Local police could be processing it right now. I left blood, I left clothes, I left prints.”

“It'll take a while for local police to connect it to New York, unless you want to call the FBI and Mike to help it along?” she recommended.

He grabbed her hand while she was working. “I thought you were dead,” he said, worry and pain making him open a little.

She had that feeling. “I know, I'm not,” she reminded. They stared at each other, reassuring the other before she pulled off the gauze and saw the actual wound.

It became quiet once she started cleaning. “Hey, why don't you take the car and go back to New York?” he suggested.

“How about no?” she said. “You need someone here to keep you from doing stupid decisions and dying. You think you can do this alone, but you can't, not anymore.”

He hated to think like that, because he did need help. Maybe the FBI, even with a leak somewhere, would help in getting a majority of the crazies so that they could get them out of the way and search for Carroll. He moved to grab his phone and dialed the number he thankfully remembered before waiting for the other side to pick up.

Mike didn't know the number and answered it, thinking it was an unnamed NYPD officer or someone. “Weston.”

“Hey, Mike.”

He looked around to see if anyone noticed him before finding an empty place to talk. “Dad, where are you? You okay?” he asked.

“I'm in Stratford, Connecticut. I found Lily and the twins,” he reported.

“Oh, and you called me?”

“Surprise. I need your help.” _Of course you do._ “I don't want to screw this up.”

“The fact that you're admitting that has me worried. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, but there's no time. I'm in a motel, Oak and Sixth, room seven. Call everyone in, ATF, SWAT, police. Lily Gray doesn't just have twins, she's got a whole family,” he said.

Mike didn't think about the next question. “Is Joe with them?”

Ryan was thrown off. _Mike now believed he was alive? What the hell happened?_ “I'm pretty sure he is.”

“I'm on my way,” he answered, ending the call. Mendez looked out to where he was standing. _She doesn't believe Joe's alive. Do I tell her? And possibly let whoever helping Joe know. No, I'm not saying anything._ He walked in and managed to convince her that he just needed a day or two, something to gather his thoughts and give him a break. She looked close to just sending him home, but Mike says he just needs a short cut off. Miraculously, she agreed, and he was heading out with a copy of the surveillance photograph.

-

It was morning, and Max had already gone out for breakfast, bring back her uncle a sandwich that she cringed at. It was the healthiest thing on the menu, unfortunately. They were right now waiting for Mike and backup before finding Gray in this town and getting Carroll. “So, how do you feel?” she asked.

“Great, Doc, good as new,” he played off.

She rolled her eyes. “So, where's the cavalry?”

“Something's wrong. It should take the FBI fifteen minutes to get here by helicopter.” He wondered if Mike had told the news and been shot down by Mendez. Or something else.

Knocking on their door made them both jump and grab guns. Ryan was the one that checked, seeing his son standing outside. “It's me,” Mike called through the door.

Both lowered their weapons and he opened the door. “Did you drive?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Had to stop for coffee twice, but....” The man moved aside and Mike walked in. “Max.”

“Jerk.”

He looked over at her. Ryan looked between the two. “What happened?” he asked, needing the story behind it.

“The stupid family curse isn't a curse, it's a warning sign,” she repeated, glaring at Mike. He returned it, not as much as she was giving it.

He could not deal with this now. “I'll hit you later. Where's the FBI? We need manpower.”

“No one else, just me,” he said.

“What do you mean, it's just you?” Max demanded, “We need roadblocks, aerial searches.”

It took Mike a lot to say this to his father. “I think the FBI might be compromised,” he stated, handing over the photo.

He looked down and also saw through the beard that was on the man. It was confirmation on all his theories and ideas. Carroll was alive. Max looked over his shoulder to see it. “Went for the hobo look,” she commented, her earlier anger winding down. 

Ryan faced Mike and read him, even if he was trying to block it. Anger, fear, worry. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “No.” He sat down in one of the chairs. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I know, I get it.”

“Who's the other person?” Max inquired.

“The daughter of one of his pen pals. We're thinking that he stayed there for the past year, but something caused him to kill a reverend and her before torching the house and running.”

“Did he kidnap her?” she asked.

“The way it looks, unsure,” he said, “Probably not.”

“So, Joe had someone on the inside.”

“He had to. He was tipped off at every turn. I mean, Mom...” He paused for a second. “Mom was always wondering how they got the information on me knowing about Claire's location. It wasn't public knowledge. Intranet records and paper. Nothing on the internet.”

Ryan nodded, they had talked about that after his attack. “Roderick went to the academy. Maybe he met a cadet that went on to the bureau.”

“And the militia in Havenport, they had a few ties to the FBI. I wanna go after this, but the minute I open up an investigation, they're gonna know.”

“I know, you don't want to tip them off. You're right not to.”

“You said Lily and the twins were here, somewhere in Stratford,” Mike said, getting off that topic.

“No exact location, but yeah. We're pretty sure they know we're here and I think they're pissed because I killed two of their family.” He let out a frustrated groan at that. _Only with you, Dad._ “They'll show up.”

“I have no doubt they will, but that is a crappy plan. We need a better plan,” he said.

“Agreed,” Max chimed in.

“We're sitting ducks here. We need to be smart about this,” Ryan said, “Come on, let's go.” He left and Max and Mike were left cleaning everything up. He let Max go ahead, but she muttered something at him before walking after Ryan.

It didn't fail, as about an hour after they left the room, a nice car was driving in and one of the twins got out. He walked right over to where Ryan was waiting, partially disguised. “Excuse me, sir,” he asked.

Mike got up behind him with a plank of wood nearby. “Hey, punk,” he distracted, waiting until he was seeing him before knocking him unconscious. He hit him again to be sure. Ryan turned up at him. “What?” The two of them managed to get him tied up before he started to awaken.

Max walked over after they had him in the car. “I told the manager we were taking him to New York. He'd prefer if we would keep his fine establishment out of it,” she said, “That's his car over there. Looks like he came alone. Can you run his plates?”

“Yeah,” Mike said.

“They're fake,” Luke mentioned, “You're not going to find anything.” He stared at Max. “Wow, your lips are perfect, you know that?”

“Found this on him,” Ryan said, holding his cell phone.

Max approached him, using his little attention seeking talk back at him. “So, any chance you're going to tell us where your crazy Mother of yours is?” she questioned.

“She's with Joe,” he evaded. “Now doesn't that make you squirm knowing you're so close, but not. You know what makes me squirm? The thought of killing you, and then doing things to you.”

Okay, Mike wasn't exactly happy at finding out about Carroll's reappearance, and this guy was creeping on his cousin and he's just not feeling very happy at the moment. He got in between the two and punched Luke. The man just started laughing. “One more, please.”

“You got it.” He punched him again. Ryan grabbed him before he could start again.

Max looked at her cousin. “Really?” The two of them watched him, so he walked around the car, out of sight for Luke.

Ryan went to Mike. “Hey, you okay?”

“I'm fine. Peachy even.”

He was a little confused at the peachy comment. “You sure you're up for this? We gotta keep our heads straight.”

“Coming from you, Dad, that means shit.”

“Hey, look, all I'm saying is....”

“I got it. I'm good.” He walked around to the other side and Ryan voted to have himself and Mike in the other car. Max could take care of herself. She managed applying duct tape to his mouth all right.

Set up, Ryan made the call to Lily while Mike and Max were waiting to track it. “Luke,” Lily said.

“Luke got held up,” Ryan said, “By me.”

“Where's my son?”

“He's in my backseat, bleeding.”

“Ryan, where are you?”

Mike didn't have to wait long for satellites to pick up a house in the middle of the woods. “Close enough that I could have the FBI here in a matter of minutes, but I think you know all I really want is Joe.”

“If anything happens to my son, there will be no end to your suffering.”

“Don't be so melodramatic. I want to make a trade, your son for Joe. So, listen, there's a dam off route twenty-two. Road's closed. I'll be waiting. You cross me, and I will kill Luke. Just like I killed your other two psycho kids.”

“I'll be there.” She ended her side and he his. Then, the two groups separated, Ryan moving off to the location of Lily's hideout and possibly Joe Carroll. Max drove closer to the dam before letting Mike out so he could come up behind them. Max then kept driving to the dam on the closed road. Once there, she pulled out Luke and waited for Lily to show up. 

She dialed up Mike when he didn't show up when she parked. “You at the dam already?” he asked.

“Yeah, where are you?”

“Almost there.”

“Hurry up.”

She knew she wasn't going to show up with Joe. The woman had gone to too much trouble to get the man. Max and Mike were distractions. “Okay, time to see Mommy.” Max got out of the car before grabbing Luke and pulling him out. She figured she would have used one of her remaining children to fake it, trying to do the same thing back at them. Instead, she showed up with a hostage. “That's not Joe Carroll,” she yelled.

“And you're not Ryan Hardy,” she shouted back, “Where is he?” Max couldn't tell her. That would ruin the plan. That and she saw Mike waiting to get behind them. “Drop your gun, little girl.”

“Not 'til he drops his. Where's Carroll?”

“I realized I was at a disadvantage. Luke's well-being is important to me, whereas you couldn't care less whether Joe Carroll lives or dies, so I needed leverage.” Mike ran out from behind a pillar and slice the car tires so they couldn't escape. “The kind gentleman here was sweet enough to give us a ride. I know how you law people revere the innocent, so tell Ryan to get out from wherever he's hiding.”

“Ryan's not here,” she admitted. “Luke shot him, remember? He can't even walk.”

“I know you didn't come out here on your own.” She threatened the man with her knife, Max threatened Luke.

Mike had to come out. “I'm right here,” he shouted, gaining attention. “Don't hurt him. Max...” He held up his own hands, a plan starting to form. “Drop your gun.”

Lily knew it would be a little better to be on even ground. “Mark, lose your gun,” she said. Mike carefully walked around to rejoin Max, the gun still pointed at him until he had passed, then it was set down carefully. “Throw your gun over the railing.”

Max clumsily threw her gun, near where she could pick it up. “Sorry, guess I throw like a girl.”

“Give me my brother,” Mark demanded.

“Hey, come and get him. I dare you,” Mike said. Mark looked down at his gun. “That's it. Grab it. I don't know about you, but Max has some pretty good reflexes.” Again with the second guessing. “Come on! This game of chicken is getting old. Someone's gotta make a move.”

“I'll make a move,” Lily threatened, the man's screaming muffled. “The choice is simple. This man's life for my son's freedom.”

Mike pulled out his own knife and stabbed Luke twice, hitting non-vital areas. “Mike,” Max said, in disbelief over her cousin.

He brought it up near Luke's face. “Please, try that again, you Goddamn bitch. I need a reason.” He smiled at her.

She brought the knife up to the man's neck. “Give me my son, now!”

Damn, he was really hoping that he wouldn't have to do it. Max was already looking at him weird and he didn't want to screw it up more. He pushed Luke, causing him to roll once. “Let him go,” she said.

Luke and Mark ran ahead. “Must be awful being the good guys. So many rules.” She forced the man to the side before running after them. Mike had his back up out before going after them. Max checked on the man before having to duck when bullets started flying.

“I need an ambulance up at Dover Dam,” she reported. Mike was hiding behind the car, waiting for a lull. He shot off a few rounds when he heard it and saw them running into the woods. “Go, Mike.” He started moving in their direction, stopping before picking them up and chasing after them.

It took him a few minutes, but he caught up. They were in a stationed car. _I should have found this one first._ He saw two and started firing, hitting windows but neither of them. Luke, who knew he had been following, tackled him before he could get a better shot. He managed to get him away enough to go back after his gun. Luke was standing when he fired twice into him. He went down. Mike thought he was out when he reloaded his gun and took aim again. 

Luke grabbed on before he was able to, managing to get the gun out of his grip and get it away. Furious, Mike landed a punch at his jaw and kept hitting until he had him on the ground. He then sat on top of him before continuing to pummel his face and upper torso. His anger, rage, fear, worry, all of his emotions just flew into hitting Luke over and over again, seeing the blood and his pained face and feeling good about it.

He barely heard Max the first time she called his name, but he heard it the second, and the release of a trigger from her gun. “Mike! Stop it!” she yelled. He finally managed to keep himself from continuing. He started realizing that he had blood on his face, his knuckles, everywhere. His breathing was hard and he had a hard time getting it back in after expelling. Mike forced himself up before backing away from both Luke and Max, holding his hands up and making sure not to go for anything. A part of him knew it was wrong, but it had felt good. Things that had been kept inside his mind fled out and he felt better than he had in ages.

They ended up seeing a cop car coming down, which was surprising, since he knew Max called for an ambulance, not a cop car. Both positively identified themselves and they were driven up to a flat piece of land where the FBI and several others had landed. Ryan was talking to Mendez and he didn't look happy when he saw the two of them walk up. Max ran over and hugged him briefly. “Hey, you okay?” she asked. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah, but I'm not sure about Mike.”

He looked over and saw blood all over. “It's not mine, it's Luke's,” he explained.

That made him even more worried. “He nearly killed him. They're transporting him to a secure hospital now,” she whispered, “He might not survive.”

He stared at him. “What the hell is going on with you?” he asked. Mike just stared back, like he should know why but for some reason had to ask. It was uncomfortable. “Joe was here.”

“You saw him?” she asked.

“I nearly had him, he got away,” he told them, “He could be anywhere now. Somebody tipped him off. You're right.” He looked over at Mike. “Someone inside is helping him. We can't trust anybody now.” They looked over at Mendez and the group she was talking with. And wondered who could it be.


	7. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is kidnapped as payback for what Mike did to Luke.
> 
> And her abduction isn't the worst part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I wanna post a smartass comment, but that might be a bit crude._
> 
> _Instead, I'll leave you with a warning. Lily had to kill someone to get back at Mike. Max wasn't enough._

Mendez called him in.

Ryan had to fight through crowds to get up to the task force. She took him into the conference room he was in last time with no one else. _That's surprising._ “Thanks for coming in, Mister Hardy,” she said, “How's the wound?”

“I'll heal. What can I do for you?”

“Well,” she said, “I'm inclined to believe you.”

“About what?”

“That you saw Joe Carroll and that he is, in fact, alive, and that he knew that we were on to him. Someone warned him not to get on the plane.”

“According to the pilot, he received a phone call just prior,” he mentioned.

“I went to the evidence warehouse in Virginia, where Carroll's physical DNA was being stored, and it's possible that his DNA has been swapped. That means he would have had someone within the Bureau this entire time.”

“Yep.”

“Any ideas on who that may be?” Ryan had his suggestions, but he wasn't telling her. “I need to know. I cannot trust anybody.”

“Well, by your own logic, how can I trust you?”

“You're facing federal charges,” she told him, “The only reason why you're not in jail is because Director Franklin wanted to minimize the fallout. However, there will be repercussions.”

“You mean more than losing Debra, almost losing Mike?” he reminded. “Feel free to arrest me, whenever you'd like, but 'til then....”

“You know, I actually like you. I even respect your need to do this without the bureau's help, but you put the people that you care about in danger, and I don't understand or respect that,” she stated.

_Mike and Max are always in danger, whether or not it's from me or not._ “You're right. You don't understand.” He walked out and managed to see Mike before they hit the elevator. “Hey, did you get my message?”

“Yep.”

“They interview Luke yet?”

“Not talking. They think Lily left the country. DC found several properties in other countries, all linked to her.” He pushed the down button on the elevator and waited for a carriage.

“Yeah, but she's prepared for this. They're not going to find anything there. Can you get me in to see....”

Mike interrupted him, “Nope, I can't. I'm leaving.”

That surprised him. “What?” he asked.

“Leaving,” he repeated, “I'm heading back home.” He turned around to him. “I'm done.” The elevator was taking too long, so he headed over to the stairs to get to the ground floor.

Ryan moved to go after him. “Mike, wait.” He managed to catch up on the way down. “Why? Did Mendez force you off?”

“No,” he said. “I asked to go, I need to leave.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“I lost control, I almost killed Luke,” he reminded, “For a former agent, you sure don't know how to read a situation, Dad.”

“He was trying to kill you.”

“For the first thirty seconds, maybe,” he said, turning back around to him, “It's more than that. I lost it. I thought I was ready for this. Thought maybe, coming back would help.” He could feel something wanting to give out, crumble so that way he could get something back. He couldn't. “You know we don't talk. We don't talk about Mom. We never mentioned Carroll, or Roderick, or anything else related to the case. You know everything else except what's been wrong with me since last year. And it's the most we've talked to each other in years. I don't react normally any more. I have to fake it then cloud over.”

“Can you talk to someone?”

“Who, Dad? Therapists, counselors? They don't get it.” He stared at him, almost willing him to pick up the fucking message. “I need to go. My flight's in the morning. Good luck, Dad.” He turned back around and walked out the doors, heading to the motel to pack up and get ready to leave.

Ryan wouldn't go out and chase him. There was something holding him back, and he couldn't figure it out. Instead, he went back to his apartment, and was joined by Max a few minutes later. After settling, he decided to ask about what happened to her. “I've been suspended,” she announced.

“For how long?” he asked.

“Six months, or until the case is over, but I'm not going back to the Intel division,” she reported.

“I'm so sorry, Max.”

“I didn't lose my career. Yet. I got suspended. There are other departments.”

“What if I call someone at the bureau?” he tried reasoning.

“Don't. I knew the deal. I'm okay with it,” she stopped.

“What are you going to do?”

“I'm more worried about what you're going to do,” she said, “It's time to rethink this. What you've been doing, what we've all been doing.” Ryan couldn't take it. He was being guilted by her, and it was working, combining with what Mike said.

He got up and went to the kitchen. “I'm fine.”

“No, you're obsessed, but go ahead and dodge the issue.”

“I'm not dodging anything, but I'm not gonna stop. I can't.”

“Sure you can. You make the conscious decision not to be involved any further, right this moment. You go back to teaching, you forget about all of this.”

“I withdrew for the semester,” he said. Max sighed. “Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, Max. I can't, not after everything you've done for me, but I have to be the one to find him.”

“You mean to kill him.”

He almost wanted to change that, but no lying. He nodded, “Yeah, to kill him. I stopped drinking, so I could get clear-headed enough to find him, so I could get healthy enough to hunt him. I started teaching because I knew it would anger him. So, this life you see, it's all for him. Am I obsessed? Yeah, I am, and I'm okay with it.”

She hated him at that moment. _Doing Aunt Deb's wishes well._ “All right, fine, your life was entirely for Carroll. It doesn't have to be any more. It's your life, you have family. Me. Mike. Aunt Jenny. We love you, you know that, right?” Ryan didn't know what to say to that. She left him after a quick bye.

Max started calling Mike when she was going down to her car. She heard the other side pick up. “Max, if you're going to try and convince me to not leave, please don't,” he stated.

“Leave, what? No,” she said, “Just hear to tell you that Ryan said the reason he got healthy and stopped drinking was all for Carroll.”

She heard his shrug from his clothes on the other side. “Doesn't surprise me. Never thought he actually cared enough for any one else.”

Okay, Max wants to know what's going on in her cousin's head. “Yeah, well, you're now the second crappiest male relative I got. Ryan's first. And what did you mean leave?”

He sighed, “I'm going back to Virginia in the morning. I took myself out.”

She figured out the why quickly. “You better call.”

“I know if I don't I'll get some annoying messages in my voicemail from three in the morning,” he flatly joked.

“You bet. Bye, Mike.”

“Bye, Max.” She put her phone away after the call ended and drove back to her apartment building. In the parking garage, she saw a man berating his son. Then, it started moving into physical abuse and she couldn't stand aside. She walked into the middle of them and announced herself. It stopped him enough to check on the boy before something covered her face and mouth. _Fucking setup._ She passed out from the chloroform laced cloth and dropped into the man's arms.

-

Ryan was working in his room, pinning up faces from the FBI, all who had access to Carroll's files during the two cases. Clearance levels and small profiles were posted over the ones he already had up. He had given thought to just giving this up, leaving the hunt for Joe Carroll to the FBI. Instead doing everything for Joe, actually fulfill Debra's last words and take care of Mike, because he's doing a shit job of it. Spend more time with him and Max, visit Jenny. Settle, live for his family instead of psychos like Joe and Lily.

It squashed within ten seconds. Joe wouldn't stop. Neither would Lily, and he was one of the only people, no, the only person that could take on someone like them. The FBI was limited, in thought, in acting. They couldn't, wouldn't do what he did.

Interrupted, his phone went off and he checked it to see a new video message. Opening it, he saw Lily's face. “Hello, Ryan,” she stated, “I'm sorry it's come down to this, but I don't know any other way to express what my loss feels like. You take from me, I take from you.” That part ended and a new video came up on the screen. Ryan opened it and saw his niece standing before someone came up behind her with a cloth and knocked her out with a chemical. They actually taped the process of binding her before it shut off.

Within a half hour, he was at the FBI, Mendez meeting him at the center after he told them about the kidnapping. “Ryan, I'm sorry about Max,” she said. 

He wasn't ready to hear that. Not yet. “Anything?”

Lawrence started up. “Lily Gray's email was tracked to a coffee shop in Boston.”

Hopkins added, “Open Wi-Fi, whoever sent it didn't even need to get out of their car.”

“Any witnesses to Max's abduction? It happened right outside her apartment.”

“Garage was already processed. Security cameras were disabled. No eye witnesses.”

_Fuck._ “Okay, we knew the abductor used an SUV, late seventies model, male on camera wearing a brown work jacket, flannel shirt.”

Mendez ordered, “All right, everyone. Eyes up. We're looking for two suspects.”

“We got camera footage from both corners near her apartment,” Mike announced, walking up by Ryan. “Hey.” He handed off the drive to Hopkins.

“I thought you left,” he said, surprised that he hadn't left already.

“Mendez called me,” he said. _I'm here._

He nodded and looked up at the new videos. “Ryan, what time did she leave your place?”

“It was around two. She said she was heading home.” 

“Okay, so that's around two-thirty,” Mike directed. They brought up the general time frame and watched for the vehicle. 

It didn't take long for the SUV to pop up. “There! Work jacket, flannel shirt.”

“What about the license plate?” Mike asked.

They brought up a cap and found it blocked. “It's been taped over.”

“That's the best I can do,” Lawrence stated.

“Facial recognition?” Mike inquired.

Ryan pulled Mendez back a little. “There is a person who could help us, Luke,” he proposed, “Lily sent this guy to punish me and Mike for Luke. He would know who he is, where Lily is. Luke would know.”

“Well, he's recovering because he was almost killed,” she reminded, eyes flitting to Mike, who had purposely turned his back to them, “And he's refusing to talk.”

“Let me try. Max is not dead, or it would be on that tape, and it's not,” he said, “We are wasting time. Please, Gina.”

-

Max had woken up during the ride to wherever the guy was taking her. _Okay, I promise to not make fun of Mike again after I get out of this. I refuse to put an if in there. I will get out of this. I am a Hardy._ She played asleep when the ride came to a stop and someone opened the back. The guy was strong enough to lug her around and she had the feeling this wasn't the first time he had done this. He hoisted her and she felt the sharp edge of what had to be a hook before the bag was ripped away from her head. The first thing she saw were knives, lots of large knives. _Definitely not making fun of Mike again._ She saw some of the other things and realized the knives weren't the worst. _Trophies. Hunting paraphernalia. Shit._

Then, the guy appeared right beside her and she freaked. Not loudly, but tried moving away from him. “Hi,” he said, looking all too happy and excited at her. “Nice to meet you, Max.” She didn't say anything. She didn't want to be nice to the man that was going to attempt killing her. He focused on something lower on her body before grabbing a knife and pointing. “Is that a tattoo?” He lifted up her shirt and jacket to get a better look at it. “Well, isn't that something?” He turned back up. “Do you have any more?” _Why would I tell you if I have more tattoos?_

“Where am I?” she asked.

He didn't answer her, instead grabbing something off the wall to show her. “Look at this. It's a butterfly.” She realized it was someone's skin that he had excised at one point and saved. “I've got lots of tattoos. I really like this one.” He picked up another to show her. “It's pretty, isn't it?” She was barely paying attention, focused on making sure her shoulders didn't pop out and not freaking completely out. “Come on, tell me. Do you have any more tattoos?”

-

Ryan was escorted down to the room where they were keeping Luke. He was forcing himself to be calm when all he wanted to do was shoot people and go after Lily to get Max. The marshal locked the door, then came over. “Hey, I came to see you,” he said, “But first, they have to secure me. They don't trust me.” He was handcuffed to a bar situated under the window. “Anger issues.” He knew that Mendez and Mike were in a security room, watching video feed. “So, how you feeling?” The young man glared at him half-hardheartedly. “Listen, I'm sorry about Giselle, but she was trying to kill me.” _And taunting me. If she hadn't lied about Max, she would still be alive._ “I mean, you can't hold that against me. What would you do in my situation?”

“What do you want?” he grumbled, annoyed by the man.

“I need your help, Luke,” he replied, “And I know you have no reason to help me, but I really hope you will.”

“I'm not gonna help you find my mother,” he reminded, as if he hadn't been asked that dozens of times.

_Trust me, they wouldn't allow me to ask you that._ “Sadly, this isn't about where your mother is.”

“She really liked you, you know?” he told him, “Said it would have even been nice to have another son for the family.”

He ignored that. He had to ignore that. “That's nice to hear. Always nice to hear someone will accept someone elses kid in a relationship. But, I actually need your help finding this guy.” He pulled out a folded up printout of the best screencap they could pull off the video.

Luke looked at it, smiling a little as he imagined the scenario. “Ooh, ooh, ooh. You don't want to find that guy. He's bad news. If you're looking for him, you must be in real trouble.”

“Why is that?”

“A little too gory for my Mom's taste.”

“So, she knew him?”

“My Mom knows lots of people, Ryan. She's been looking for the right guy for a really, really long time, and they're not all princes,” he explained, “There's a lot of toads out there.”

“So, your Mother was auditioning killers?”

He laughed, painfully. “No, no, no, no. Not killers, Ryan. People. She just wants to be loved like everybody else. She just wants someone to understand her, and accept her for who she is. I mean, no one wants to be alone.”

That sounded too close to home. Wanting someone that could understand.... “So, where can I find this guy?”

“Oh, you already know him. Everybody does.”

“What's his name?” he demanded.

“Why do you need to know his....” he inquired, before laughing again. “I know what's happening. Mom got clever. Tit for tat. Although, I'm kinda surprised she didn't pick someone else, but, maybe she had something extra planned for Mikey.” He motioned to the photo again. “This guy, he's hot for my Mom. He'll do anything for her.” He was smiling, a combination of what he's pretty sure of and the drugs. “What did he do?”

Ryan got angry and instinctively tried to reach out and hurt him. Luke just kept laughing at him. He made himself sit back down. “Who is he?”

“His name's Kurt something or other. I don't know his last name, but you know him as the Huntsman.”

They hurried back to the center to find out more about the serial killer and try to link him to someone named Kurt. Mike found the quick version while the full case file was being requested. “The Huntsman is a known serial killer of women, all prostitutes,” he informed the room, “He's believed to be Northeast coastal region of the country. He's been evading Quantico for years, no eye witnesses, no survivors.” He avoided looking at Ryan. “Now, the victim's time of death is roughly twenty four hours after their abduction. They're all killed with a high velocity bow.”

“A lot of superficial cuts on their faces, arms, legs,” Ryan pointed out.

“Believed to be sustained while running for their lives in the woods. He hunted them like prey. He's a mission killer.”

Ryan knew it. So did everyone else. “He's ridding the world of sin,” he said, the words lead. “He hunts them, guts them, skins them.”

“We know what he looks like,” Mike reminded.

“And we've got a first name, Kurt,” she added, turning back to the room. “Come on, guys, we've only got twelve hours if he sticks to the MO. I need those DMV records.”

“Max isn't his typical victim, he may not follow that,” Ryan brought up. Mike didn't want to think about that.

“I have a match,” Lawrence interrupted. They ran over to see his driver's license. “Kurt Bolen, of Trenton, New Jersey.”

Mendez was carefully reading. Ryan saw his face and knew. “That's him.” The agents started gathering their items and ran out the door, Ryan and Mike in the lead.

Knowing it was pointless, they ended up at his house first, hoping to find some type of clue to where he would take her. The woman in the kitchen, his wife, was surprised and dropped a pan back into the oven. Ryan only came in after they had cleared the house and couldn't find their intended target. “Is Kurt Bolen your husband?”

“Y-yes.”

“Where is he?” he demanded.

“He went away for a few days,” she answered, scared.

“Mom!” a boy shouted, running up to her and hugging her.

They settled around, the agents going through the man's things and trying to find evidence. Mendez sat with the woman to try and get something. “I know this is difficult to accept, but we need your help.

She reiterated, “No, I told you, he's traveling for work. He sells office supplies.”

Mike mentioned, “We checked. There's no business trip.”

“What? No, this is impossible.”

She was denying it like Claire Matthews had done after Joe's arrest and Ryan felt a little bad for her, but Max was missing. “Shannon, don't be that wife. The one that didn't know what her husband was doing and when everything comes to light, is completely struck,” he said, “You know it's true.”

“Hey! Shut up!” the son yelled. “You don't know my Dad.”

“Chris,” she tried.

“You don't know him.” He went upstairs and Mike got this bad feeling, looking over at Ryan. Apparently, so did he. 

They exited the kitchen and Mike pulled out his tablet to load up the video. “Look at the camera angle. Max is five foot eight,” he pointed out. “The camera's shooting from below.”

He nodded, “Certain serial killers used their children to act as bait. A child acting in distress to grab attention.” The two looked up and went up to find his bedroom.

“Hey, you can't just come in here,” he objected, trying to put up a brave front. “This is my room.”

“Where's your father, Chris?” Ryan demanded, not even playing around.

“What?”

“Where is your father?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you shot the video,” Mike said, holding the tablet and playing the video again.

He didn't even look. “No, I didn't.”

Ryan pointed to Max. “That girl, she's my niece. She's my family, and I'm not gonna let your sick, twisted father kill my niece.”

The sneer the kid brought up made Mike want to punch something. His father had already corrupted him. “Is she a whore?” he asked. “My Dad hates whores. He gives them what they deserve.” Mike walked over to the door and locked it. He then brought out a zip tie and threw the kid on the floor, securing his arms together. “Hey, let go.”

“Now, here's the problem with that thought,” he said, forcing him to look at the image of Max again. “That's my cousin. She's an NYPD detective. Your Dad will become a cop killer if we don't stop him.”

“You're lying,” he protested.

“I'm not. And since you helped your father with kidnapping her, you're a cop killer by association. See, what I'm doing now, it's just what you deserve. You're a criminal, you'll probably end up in Juvie for helping your father kidnap those woman,” he pointed out, scaring him into giving up the location, “But if he kills her before we can find her, you're going to end up in prison. No prosecutor is going to go light on you. Neither will judges, or juries. You'll end up with adults just like your father. And I don't think they're going to be as nice as he is to you.”

Ryan bent down. “Where is your father?” he asked.

There was still one last resistance part of him. “You know what? I think I'll go tell your Mom to start looking for a defense attorney after explaining what you've done,” Mike said, “Maybe you'll get out before twenty one.”

“He has a cabin!” he shouted, before calling for his Mom. That alerted Mendez and other agents, who started pounding on the door. Ryan walked out first, explaining the cabin and telling her to take the kid in for questioning before moving downstairs to hurry out. Mike was already getting assistance and following along.

The night hit fast as they headed to the area Chris said his father took his victims. Ryan and Mike were first out, ready to shoot at the man and try to find her. Instead, the cabin was empty. Ryan saw a tripod and the fresh blood that he could see was small. “We're not too late, are we?” Mike asked.

He checked the video. “No, there's nothing here.”

“You think she escaped?”

“Yeah.” He ran outside. “Get the K-nine unit moving!” The dogs started barking as their handlers spread out, trying to pick up traces of either of them. They also walked along, trying to spot clues as to which way they went. The dogs and their handlers went where the dogs scented something Ryan spotted a log with some shine and spotted duct tape on the fallen tree. Mike followed him and they ran through the woods.

After a few minutes, and splitting up, Mike came across a small bridge that was probably there because of flooding issues in the spring. He didn't hear the first time, but he definitely heard the yell and looked over to see Max coming up from the bridge.

That was a relief. “Max,” he called back, running over. “You okay?” She nodded, still looking out for the guy. Mike joined her, trying to see him in the dark. Two gunshots had the two of them ducking, Mike holding out his weapon to fire back. But it was Ryan that came out of the bush. Max rushed over and hugged him tightly. Mike kept away and found Kurt Bolen bleeding on the ground from two gunshot wounds. Ryan stayed close to Max, talking to her softly while Mike headed back with Mendez.

Talking with the tech duo and Mendez, he thought Ryan would have gone back to his apartment and stayed with Max. Instead, he walked in just as Mike confirmed there was nothing on Bolen's phone in finding Lily. And reminding Mendez that he was leaving, still. He had to. “Hey,” he said, turning around. “How's Max?”

“She's fine. She also says she's not picking on you anymore,” he passed along. Mike rolled his eyes and Mendez stood there not understanding the family link. His phone buzzed and he saw another video had been sent to him. “Lily just sent me a text.”

Mike took the phone from him. “Another video,” he lamented.

“All right, let's get it up on the big screen,” Mendez said. 

“Hey, Hopkins,” he said, holding up the phone before passing it along. The tech hooked it up and Lily Gray's face lit up the screen.

“Hello, Ryan,” she started.

“Is this live?” Mendez inquired.

“No, it's time-stamped a few hours ago.”

Ryan moved closer. “Where is she? House, dining room? Bedroom? Where?”

“I'm sorry about your niece,” she continued. Mike had a sinking feeling in his gut, seeing the background as she moved around. “She must be a terrible lost in your and Michael's lives.”

“She doesn't realize you saved her,” she noted.

“I have one more surprise. Your son hurt me, Ryan, and simply going after Max wasn't enough.”

Realization struck him hard when he saw one of the drawings. “Oh, God,” he gasped, “That's.... that's Aunt Beth's place.” He got his phone out and started dialing, even though it had already happened. Ryan had the feeling Mike shouldn't see what happens next.

The video switched around and they saw the late Debra Parker's sister duct taped to a chair, crying at the people that were holding her captive. “Say hello to your nephew, Bethany.”

“Please,” she pleaded, “please don't do this.”

“Fifteen hundred Trenton Drive, Apartment seventy-seven D, Dale City, Virginia,” he rambled off, still trying to call her and not getting any answers. Mendez directed someone to send two patrol officers over to her apartment. “Please!”

Ryan had to get him out of here. “Stop the video,” he directed, going up to Mike. “Come on.”

“No!” he muttered, getting closer to the screen. Lily had zoomed in and Beth was crying, Mark had her head forced up and he cut her neck. Ryan tried pulling Mike back when he let out a sob. Both him and Mendez hovered around him. “No, no.” He shrugged off his father's hands and rushed out of the room, head bent down even though everyone knew he was crying. Ryan took one last look at the video, Lily's face stretched out over several monitors, before rushing after him.

“I have many more surprises for you, Ryan,” she taunted, her audience not even there.

He managed to make it out just as Mike collapsed on one of the stairs part way down. His son sobbing ripped holes in his heart and he had a painful flashback to just after they found Debra, him weeping over her when he couldn't bring her back. “Mike,” he whispered, sitting down next to him. Instantly, he pulled him in, cradling him and wrapping both his arms around him.

“She's gone,” he cried, gripping one of his arms and burying his head, “She's gone, she's gone. And it's my fault. It's my fault. It's all my fault.”


	8. The Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Max investigate Doctor Strauss, while Mike's feeling left out.

The gathering of those mourning Bethany Parker was small, but they were close together. Ryan, Mike and Max were the nearest ones to the casket. Mike kept tearing up and the two of them kept near enough that they were almost always touching. The coffin was lowered after the priest's speech and Mike scattered his handful before standing aside and letting everyone else do the same. While everyone else slowly walked their way out, Mike stopped at Debra's grave. They buried them together and extra flowers were laid at her headstone as well. Ryan pulled him away before he started spiraling again, whispering in his ear how Debra wouldn't have blamed him and neither would if they could talk to him.

The three walked over to his car to head over to the visitation when they saw a woman waiting and looking straight at Ryan. It took a minute for Mike to place her. “What the hell is she doing here?” he hissed.

Max was surprised as he was to see Carrie Cooke, the writer of The Havenport Tragedy. Ryan told her they had met once or twice. Apparently, it was a lot more than that as he approached her. “No clue, but it can't be good,” she said.

Ryan wasn't happy that the woman showed up. “Not here,” he muttered. He knew the woman wasn't the greatest at respectful boundaries, but to show up at the funeral of Beth was unacceptable. Max guided Mike into the car so he wouldn't be able to get involved in whatever they were about to talk about.

The woman obviously looked at Mike. “My condolences,” she said.

“What do you want?” Ryan asked.

“I know Joe Carroll is alive. Care to comment?” The best thing to do was ignore her. He started walking over to the car and planned on heading over to Beth's friends house. “'When asked if Joe Carroll was alive, Ryan Hardy dodged the question.'”

Okay, that pissed him off. Thankfully, it wasn't Mike out talking to her. “When asked, outside of the funeral for the murdered aunt of Agent Michael Weston, son of Ryan Hardy, the man actually decided to put his son's needs first,” he backfired. “I'm not dodging, but right now, I'm supposed to be going to the fucking wake.”

“Is that a yes or a no? I interviewed a private pilot that claimed you were convinced that Joe Carroll was trying to get on his plane.” _He already was on the plane._ “Why would he lie about that?”

“Desperate for attention and wants to be in your next book?” he criticized, “We both know the truth doesn't matter to you.”

“Yes it does, Ryan. Have you read my book?” she inquired, “Which part isn't true?”

Now he knew what she was getting at. He was drunk part of the time when she 'interviewed' him. “I'm trying to be polite, but I'm not in the fucking mood. Go to hell.” He walked back to the car and got inside, buckling up to go.

“What'd that sleaze want?” Max asked. Mike looked interested in the answer as well.

“She's fishing on Joe.”

“She knows he's alive?” Mike mentioned.

“Suspects. Talked to the pilot in Stratford.” He drove off and the three returned her stare. “Let the FBI shut her down. I can't stand to look at her.”

Arriving at the house, there were already a good number there. Mike ended up being front and center to greet people. Sometimes, it seemed endless, but Max usually stayed in the same room while Ryan wandered around. Beth never talked about her job anymore than he did his, so many of the friends were strangers to her. When Director Franklin walked in, he was confused. “Nice to see you, sir,” he said, shaking the man's hand.

“I am so sorry for your lost, Michael,” he said in return. “If you need anything....”

“No. Thank you, sir.” He watched him spot Ryan and walk the man outside, leaving his two assistants to stop anyone that would try interrupting. Max went upstairs to see what was going on and Mike followed her up. From their little hiding area, they could spy on the two. “Can we open the window?”

She shook her head. “It'll alert them.” The two kept watching and trying to figure out. Ryan purposely kept Franklin's back to them. He also shot a warning look when he saw the two of them peering through the window. Mike wanted to know, so he went back down and to the back door, right when Director Franklin left and Ryan was alone.

He stepped out when Ryan was starting to come back. “Was that about Lily Gray?” he demanded.

“No, it wasn't,” he said. Mike didn't believe him. “It wasn't about Lily, Mike. I'm not lying. It was about Joe.” His face once he realized that it was probably the subject of their talk fell quickly. He had hoped on information for the woman and her son. “There's nothing on Lily, not now.” He gave into the urge to wrap an arm around him in a quick hug. “We'll get her, just not yet. Okay?” The nod just told him Mike heard the words, probably didn't believe it. “Come on, there're still people here for Beth. You should be in there for them.”

Walking him back inside, the owners of the house took over taking care of Mike, bringing him in for a session of stories and other things to talk about. Ryan grabbed Max and left after saying bye to Mike. The two made it back to Ryan's apartment in a short amount of time, and were ready and up to crack into the new information on Joe Carroll. “So, Franklin is cutting out his entire team?” she asked, again, because it was something that she wanted to confirm and make sure her uncle wasn't twisting.

“Until he finds this mole, yeah,” he said, “We're dealing directly with his office.”

She opened up the drive and picked on the first thing she saw. “Okay, who are these guys?”

“That's Halston,” he pointed out.

She recognized others. “Two of these guys are on your wall.”

Ryan had to removed the FBI personnel that was on top to confirm it. “Wyker, Douglas, both connected to Roderick, both deceased.”

“And this older guy?” she asked, zooming in.

“Looks familiar,” he muttered, then went for something. “Wait a minute. I know him.” He pulled out a file. “Here we go. Doctor Arthur Strauss. He was a counselor at the boarding school that Joe went to in New Hampshire, mentored him from thirteen to college. I tried to interview him for the book, he declined. Said he wanted to distance himself from Joe.”

“I can see that.”

“No contact after Joe graduated, so I dismissed him in helping the man out, but having a doctor would come in handy if you're trying to fake your death.”

She was looking the man up, seeing where he was. “Guess who lives an hour away from the lighthouse where you supposedly killed Carroll.”

“That's where he went after he left Carlos.”

“Hurt and needed medical attention.”

“Address,” he said, going over and picking out a gun, making sure it was loaded before coming back and grabbing the paper from her. “You have my new cell?”

“Yep.”

“I'll call from the road.”

“I'll be here.” He moved forward and tentatively hugged her. She smiled and hugged him back. “Look at you, all soft and fuzzy.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, walking out.

The drive up to Strauss's house wasn't as long as he thought, and he had to stop a few feet away so he could get himself prepared for going inside. Then, he drove up and moved up to the front door. The man didn't look happy at the interruption he had. “Can I help you?”

“Doctor, Strauss, I don't know if you remember....”

“Of course I do, Mister Hardy,” he interrupted, “I'm afraid I still have nothing to say to you.”

Ryan stopped it before he could shut the door in his face. “Please, it'll only take a few minutes,” he insisted.

“I have nothing-”

 _You're lying._ “I'm not going away. So, if you won't talk to me, you better call the police right now.”

He doesn't know what made him change. “All right, you have five minutes.” Ryan saw that the man had money, a good amount of it. _His practice or something else?_ “I take it this is about the murders in New York.”

“No, it's about Joe. I'm trying to get some background on him, still. Would you, mind telling me more about your relationship with him?”

“Exactly what is documented, he was one of many students during my time at Lightford Academy.”

“He acknowledged you in his book, called you a mentor. I would say that wasn't a simple relationship for him.”

“He also had my name along with twelve other people,” he pointed out, “Are you harassing them, too?”

“No, but then they actually talked with me.”

“When I knew Joe, he was alone. His parents had died. He was an orphan in a foreign land, shipped here by an uncle who wanted nothing to do with him. I gave him the same guidance I gave all my students. When he left for college, we lost touch.”

“Did you see signs of psychopathy?” Ryan asked.

“No, no, I was quite shocked when I heard about the murders. Took me a great deal of time to even believe it.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“The day after he graduated.”

 _What? No high school reunions?_ “So, are you retired?”

“Perform one surgery a week. The rest of the time is spent teaching.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that what you were doing in Oxford, England, last year? Teaching?”

He laughed at him. “I've never been to Oxford, Mister Hardy. And I've tolerated this for just about as long as I can.” Ryan admitted defeat and left, driving a little ways away to get to a bend that placed him still pretty close to the house.

He also dialed Max. “Hey, how'd it go?” she asked, once they connected.

“He had little to say. Bug's in the living room.” 

“Got it, I tapped his phones. Fast, Franklin has major access. I'm also monitoring the nearest cell tower. Did you scare him into calling Joe?”

“Hoping. Call me if you get anything.”

“Got it.”

The two ended the call and Ryan parked at the bend he noticed earlier. Getting out, he started listening to the bug, finding out that Strauss had turned the classical back on after he left. Then, he heard the doorbell ring. That was a surprise. Was Joe already alerted and he sent someone to talk to Strauss?

“Doctor Strauss, I'm Carrie Cooke,” someone introduced. _Shit!_ There was no way she was getting out of that situation alive. He started running back toward the house. “We met briefly last year.”

There was static, which made him worry. It was supposed to be extremely good. He wondered if there was interference. “I don't know why all you people are showing up here today.”

“That's easy, Ryan Hardy believes Joe Carroll is real and that you know where he is,” she revealed, “Care to comment?”

 _Goddamn it, you fucking...._ “Last time I saw Joe Carroll, he was seventeen. I made that quite clear.”

“Really? My sources put you at Winslow University on April Fourth, Nineteen ninety-seven. Did you not see him then? And on June Twelfth, Nineteen ninety-nine, once again, you visited the university,” she said.

He opened his house to her. _Oh, don't do that._ “All right, come in,” he stated, “I can explain.”

Carrie walked in. “Thank you.” After a few seconds, he heard her yelling in distress and Ryan raced over to the front door, worried about what was happening. He kicked in the door and couldn't find Carrie or Strauss. He moved cautiously, waiting for someone to attack.

He found Strauss carrying the woman's body down the stairs. “Stop right there!”

“You shouldn't have come, Mister Hardy,” he yelled. Someone attacked him from the side. It looked to be someone young. _Probably a kid he's 'counseling'._ He lost his gun, but thought he had the upper hand, pinning the kid to the ground. Then, something was sprayed in his face and it knocked him out, right on top of the kid.

-

Max was worried. Ryan's tracer was gone and she couldn't get him on his cell phone. Unsure what to do, the knock on the door distracted her. Mike was on the other side. “Hey, shouldn't you still be...” she tried, thinking of Beth's friends.

“They started drinking. I figured it wouldn't be a great idea again,” he said, walking in. “Where's Dad?”

“Obviously not here.”

“I know, I've tried his cell. What is he up to?” he asked, turning back to her. She didn't want to answer the question. Ryan wanted him to focus on getting past Beth, and Debra's deaths and trying to catch Joe and Lily wasn't going to help. “Don't. I'm not some little kid, Max. Don't cut me out. Please. Where is he?”

She sighed, “He went to look into Doctor Strauss. We think he helped out Carroll in getting his half-brother's body and he may have met with him after the lighthouse last year.”

“All right, let's go. He's probably helping Joe and now has Dad.” Max grabbed her gun before following Mike out.

-

Ryan woke up, feeling the chemical aftermath of the spray. He moved, and felt restricted, seeing himself tied down to a wheelchair. He couldn't do anything about it, and started looking around. Strauss had seated him in front of an observation room. Carrie Cooke was on an operating table. He tried calling out to her, but his voice wasn't high enough to make it over. The spray must have been still in effect.

At that point, Strauss came up behind him. “You're awake,” he said, surprise in his voice.

“If you hurt her,” he slurred.

“I would be more worried about yourself right now if I were you.” He was preparing to wheel him closer.

“You're the one that taught Joe.”

“I taught him to remove his victims' eyes, with precision, but to kill, no. That was already part of his DNA.”

“You trained him,” he accused.

“I inspired him,” he said, wheeling him into the other room. “To teach young minds is a gift, Ryan. He wasn't even my best student.”

He needed to figure out a way to get Carrie out. “How many others have you taught?”

“Well, there's Cole,” he said, meaning the student that was sorting out the instruments, “Whom you've met, and others through the years. They come and go. Joe knew who he was, he just needed to be told it was okay. I'm sure you've had people in your life that unexpectedly speak to you, even what you already know, but the message is clear and you hear it for the first time.” He had been getting prepared to join, stripping off his jacket and going towards a lab coat. “When the student is ready, the teacher always appears.” He was gloating, and Ryan knew he had to get out and stop them from accomplishing her death.

Feeling more alert, he started fighting again against the restraints. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing for surgery. What did you find, Cole?”

“Well, they came in separate cars,” he reported, inserting an IV, “Ryan planted a wire just after his first visit. I found the receiver out in the woods.”

“Nicely done,” he complemented.

“The FBI knows I'm here,” he baited. Even if they didn't, Max did and soon Mike would, because he hadn't been in contact for a while.

“Ah, but alas, you two never made it here,” he said, “And they'll never find any bodies, or any proof. You really think I can't cover my tracks? Wake Miss Cooke.” Cole broke a packet and held it by her nose, forcing her awake. She coughed, before looking around and becoming afraid. “There she is.”

“Ryan, what's going on?” she asked, petrified.

Strauss had a mask of attached to a canister. “This will only keep you calm, my dear,” he 'assured', placing it on her, “And still, but don't worry. You'll still be alert.”

They were still preparing, moving things around. She was begging them. Ryan hated hearing it. “Don't do this, operate on me,” he insisted.

“You're next.”

“Do it now!” _If Mike and Max come, they can still save her._ “Me first!”

Strauss looked over at him. “Joe was right about you. So noble.”

“So, I was right. He came here?” he distracted.

“Yes, just after the fight the two of you had. You did quite a number on him.”

“Part of that was Claire,” he admitted.

“He stayed with me a month before leaving. No, he didn't tell me where he was going,” he relented, believing himself that he would finally kill Ryan Hardy, “He knew better. Joe was very angry with you, Ryan, but you should know, he considers you a friend.”

“Doctor,” Cole approached, “I'd like to take the lead on Miss Cooke.”

“Where would you start?”

“Her hands.” She started protesting. “I'd like to remove her hands.”

“Let's do feet, instead. You'll need a sledgehammer to hobble the ankles, makes it much easier.” Cole walked out to get said object.

Mike and Max finally arrived at Strauss's house. Ryan's car was now parked up front, and Max knew he was planning on making it look like he left before circling around. The two of them entered the home, carefully casing around before finding no one on the first level.

Max almost suggested they split before Mike shook his head and pointed downstairs. She understood and he went down first with her covering him. The two crept around until seeing someone heading toward a little storage area. He waited in there until the kid came to pick up his required item. “Don't move,” he hissed, flipping the safety off. There was a second before the kid attacked him, forcing him up against the sink. He shot once, hitting a vital area and dropping the kid.

Strauss, worried, ran out to see what was happening. Ryan knew what was going on and flipped his chair to get their attention. The movement managed to loosen the straps and Ryan got out. Standing up, the other man had come back to subdue his prisoner. It was a short fight. Strauss wasn't used to his victim's fighting back and the man was pinned. “I got him,” Mike said, rushing up to hold him in place.

Ryan unlocked Carrie from the stretcher. “It's okay, it's okay, you're going to be alright.” Reluctantly, Max helped out, the drug still making the older woman unbalanced. Eventually, she could stand up, breathing out the gas. After getting her out, Ryan came back and the two strapped Strauss down on the table.

“I've told you all I know,” he repeated, calmly trying to stop them from continuing with their plan.

“Yeah, I'm not so sure about that,” Ryan said.

“What are you planning to do?” Carrie asked.

Oh, right, he had almost forgot. “Max, get her out of here please.”

“What? You can't do that. I have a right to be here,” she protested.

Mike walked from his little place to get right in front of her. “No, you don't,” he stopped. “You do not have the right to be here, not when you're the reason the whole world knows about us. Get out, now.” Realizing that she didn't have a choice, she walked with Max following behind. Once they were gone, he moved back by his father. “How do you want to play this, bad cop, worse cop?”

“I don't know where Joe is,” he said, “You're wasting your time.”

“You know what? He's a surgeon. How about we start with his fingers?” he proposed. Mike agreed and grabbed a small hammer. “Where's Joe?”

“I don't know.” Mike slammed down on his hand, severely injuring two. “Ahh!”

“We both know there are twenty-seven bones in the average human hand,” he said, “Double that number, and we will be here for a while.” He slammed it down again and Ryan had to stop him. The look on his face reminded him of what Max said, and they wouldn't get anywhere if they just kept doing that.

“I don't know where he is. He just took off.”

“You're lying,” he insisted. Ryan pulled him back again.

“What about William Halston?” the man asked.

“Yes! Yes, I helped arranged him get the body back to the States,” he informed.

“Did Joe contact anyone while he was here?”

“There was a woman he was trying to reach, but he didn't have the contact information.”

“What was her name?” Mike questioned.

“All I know is, she was a friend in the FBI.”

That was shocking. It was a female mole. “What was her name?”

“He didn't say her name, or if he did, I don't recall. All I know is that she's in the FBI and she knew Roderick. I swear.” He was in pain. “You can smash my other hand, that's all I know!”

After talking with Carrie and Max, he planned on calling Franklin. Mike came up. “Calling it in?”

“Yeah, he'll send a team, clean up and take Strauss in for interrogation.”

“He brought in the CIA,” he deduced. “We gotta find the contact. We know they're female, that'll narrow it down.

“We will. But you should be thinking about Beth, mourning her.”

“Like Mom?”

“I didn't tell you....”

“But you don't want me to be like you,” he said. “How can I, when I have you to stop me?”

“Revenge doesn't fix anything, remember that.”

“You're here anyway.” The two of them were on awkward terms, and Mike felt a little uneasy after finding him among the circumstances. He yanked on his sleeve and hugged him, making sure he was still alive, again. Ryan completed it and patted him twice on the back. “Please stop being sacrificial.” He laughed a little at his tone, before leading him out to go greet the team and head home. He kept himself in the room, going over what he had, but he heard Max and Mike laughing at something. At some point, he heard Max leave, and realized it was late.

It was a surprising thing to walk out to see Mystery Science Theater playing, but Mike asleep on the couch. Surprising, but not unwelcomed. He turned off the TV and covered him completely before going to his bed.


	9. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Mike find out the mole.
> 
> Things do not end well, and they get worse.

Ryan left early after seeing Carrie's report. Mike needed a shower, and didn't think that anyone was coming over for a while, so he left his stuff out in the living room. Max walked in, using her keys, with three coffees in hand. She knew that they were going to need the caffeine if they were going through paperwork and following potential moles. The running of the shower didn't concern her. Ryan had been in the shower a few times and usually didn't come out until he was dressed and ready for the day.

Mike, however, didn't follow his father. He walked out into the living room, humming a song and dancing a little. Max knew that she would get killed, but she brought out her cell phone and started recording the amount she could. Embarrassment material for her was low. When he started dropping the towel, she knew it had to come to an end, by actually ending the recording and saying something. “You know....” she started, warning him.

He spun around, grasping the towel like a lifeline. “God damn it, Max!” he shouted. She laughed, his shocked, then angry face making her laugh even harder. “What the hell?”

“I let myself in,” she said, barely stopping herself.

He saw the phone in her hand. “You were fucking filming me, weren't you?”

“Yes, but I didn't make it into a porno.”

“Turn around,” he demanded. 

She almost wanted to say that it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, but raised her hands and turned when he flipped the finger to make her. He put on boxers and his jeans before okaying her to turn back around. “Where's Ryan?” she asked.

“He went to see Carrie Cooke,” he informed, putting on a shirt. He took the coffee from her and sipped it. “What are you doing over here early? Other than filming me naked.”

She smiled brightly at the mention of her new video. Then, Max turned serious. “First, how are you?”

He shrugged, “I don't know. Somewhere in between the feeling I developed a few months after Mom's death and something right after losing Emma and Joey from the farmhouse.” He wasn't good, but he couldn't do anything about it. 

She didn't like it either, but Max was on the same page. Pulling out files, she said, “I may have something on the leak.” That he could get behind. “Ryan forwarded me a report from Franklin with info on all female agents with possible access.”

“How extensive is that list?”

“Two thousand, six hundred and sixty-three names.”

“Wow.”

“I've already eliminated ninety percent by their access and intel,” she said, laying them out, “And I've already cross-referenced their caseloads and locales with Carroll stuff from last year and the security breach.”

“Took the idea right out of my brain. How many?”

“Six. Keep in mind, this was rushed. Possibly inaccurate and unfounded.” The last one was still in her hand. “And a lot of room for error.” She set it down.

It was Mendez's.

Mike took it and started looking through it, coffee forgotten. Max grabbed herself something to eat and tried to get her cousin to as well, shifting a bagel done with peanut butter under his face. He shook his head and gently pushed it aside to read more. Max took the file from him. “You can have it back after you eat,” she said, setting the plate down. He frowned, but downed the item, drinking about half his coffee before motioning to the file again.

Ryan arrived about an hour later, after Mike went through the other files, but kept Mendez's on hand. They presented to him, with a not so wonderful reaction. “I don't believe it,” he said, “My gut says she's innocent.”

“Her security codes were used six times last year to access Mom's email.”

“Are you two certain about this?”

“If it's not her, then it's someone around her,” Max mentioned, “I'm limited, but it's around eighty percent.”

“She did her dissertation on Carroll,” Mike added.

“So did you.”

“I had a legitimate reason.”

“There's no such thing,” he said, waving his finger at his son. “What do we know about her personal life?”

“Separated just over a year from Jana Murphy, retired FBI analyst.”

“I didn't know that,” Mike muttered.

“They have two kids together.”

“Where is she?” Ryan asked. 

“Stay at home mom in the suburbs. She's been inactive since the first kid.”

“Truth is, we don't know anything beyond the file,” Mike stated, “If she's innocent, let's prove it.”

After finding out that Mendez was planning on leaving for a short time, they decided to follow and see where she went. Max bumped into her, planting the bug in her pocket in case she ditched her phone. Then, Ryan approached her. Whoever she had been talking to had their call ended. “Ryan.”

“Gina.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping we could talk,” he said. It's an obvious answer.

“Well, Franklin said you were out, so what's this about? Is it Mike, is he okay?”

He could see the maternal side of her coming out. One parent connecting to another. Too bad she was the possible mole. “I pulled your security clearance,” he informed.

“What?”

“Why do you have personal firewalls on your passcodes?”

“For protection. Tread lightly, Ryan.”

“Why did you access Debra Parker's email account six times last year?”

“I did no such thing. Look, you're on a fishing expedition, and it's not going to work because I'm not the leak. How dare you question my loyality?” she said, before finishing with, “Go to hell.” Ryan walked away, going back to his car while Max watched her.

“What's she doing?”

The woman watched the agent. “She's at her car and she's mad. What did you do?”

“I accused her.”

“Of course you did.” Ryan got in his car, where Mike was checking to see if he could track her via her phone.

“Just ditched the cell.”

“Still wearing my trace.”

“Of course she is.” He pulled up her feed. “Got it.”

Max saw her get in a cab instead of her car. “Okay, she is paranoid, and she's headed toward you.”

There should have been no reason for it. “Guess I was wrong,” he said, “That's too bad.” He started the car and drove off after her.

They drove for about an hour, before Gina got out and walked into a large home. “Do you think this is where her kids and former partner live?” Mike brought up.

“I don't know. Let's find out.” Ryan got out of the car and walked up with Mike following behind. Knocking on the door, the woman that answered had wine in her hand and apparently in her system. “Hi, we're looking for Gina Mendez.”

“She's in the garage,” she said, “Wait, who are you?”

“We're friends of Gina's,” Mike added, smiling brightly. The woman yelled up for someone named Jana and the woman answered back. Apparently, it was okay, as she allowed them in.

“Come on in,” she waved, “So, do you have a name?”

“I'm Ryan,” he introduced.

“And I'm married, sadly.” Mike snickered a little at the response. “Day drinking, sorry.”

“You said she was in the garage. Which way is that?” The woman pointed, then walked ahead.

“Wait here,” he told Mike, who nodded and decided to look around. Ryan went by the other kids and parents, waved and kept following into the garage. Mendez was lying on the concrete, unmoving. The woman stopped, and he surged ahead. “Call an ambulance!” He knelt down beside her and carefully rolled her. “Gina. Hey, Gina.”

She was out of it, barely conscious. “Ryan?”

“Hold on, okay? Hold on.”

“Jana,” she mumbled.

Her former wife. He rushed up to see the woman fearful and panicking. “Stay with her.” He moved back into the kitchen, where the mothers started worrying. They scattered after he told them to go out the back, then went back to check the upstairs. Hearing Mike in the other room, he headed to the living room instead. The woman had already come down, pointing a gun straight at Mike. He had his out as well. “Put the gun down,” he ordered.

“You cannot be in my house,” she yelled.

“Drop the gun,” Mike said, “It's over.”

“Oh, I don't think so.”

This woman was unhinged, mentally unstable. Ryan couldn't afford to be gentle, not when the man was out there, planning something. “Where is Joe Carroll?” he asked, “Do you know where he is?”

She looked at him, unbelieving that he would be that obsessive about it. “Yes, Ryan, I know.”

“Then tell me where he is.”

“Is that all you care about, Joe Carroll? Is it? Look around you.” She swung back to Mike. “The world is falling apart, and all you can say is 'Where's Joe?' It doesn't matter anymore.” The gun wasn't pointing at either of them. Mike recognized it in others before. “It doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Mike tried, and she swerved to him. “He killed my mother. You can understand that, right?” The gun was slightly wavering. “Joe needs to be stopped. He's taking away children from their parents and parents from children. Doesn't that matter?”

He almost had her. But she shook her head sadly. “Nothing matters,” she whispered, committing suicide in front of them. Ryan was angry that he hadn't been able to get anything out of her. Mike looked shocked, and a little shaken.

“Hey,” he said, carefully moving over.

“A couple of more minutes,” he mumbled, “I might have had her. At least to not shoot herself.” Ryan squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

The medics came, along with police. Mike and Ryan had gone back to the garage to help out Gina and the woman, using blankets to keep her warm along with treating the wounds. She was still conscious when they prepped her for transport. “Where're my kids?” she asked.

“Lisa, your neighbor has them. They're taking you to the hospital. Franklin's going to send men to stay with you. Don't answer any questions until they arrive.”

They started wheeling her. “I'm really sorry. I thought she was okay,” she pleaded. Ryan felt guilty that he thought it was her for a split second.

Mike came out of a little room where she had set up. The information she complied worried him greatly, including what he was pretty sure was searches into the Marshals database. “I took everything off her computer. Needs to be decoded, but I sent it to Max,” he said, “Also got this.” He showed a cell phone he palmed. Ryan nodded at him, slightly impressed at the acquisition. 

Getting home was easy, and Max was already waiting with the decryption program going before Mike also set up with the cell phone. After a few minutes, he growled in frustration. “I'm sick of these guys being better. Phone has a blocker. No history on it. No pinging and I can't access her phone log. There's nothing here.”

Max had better luck. “I got it. I broke the encryption.”

“Great, look up her internet searches.”

The repetitive subject made her worry. “It's flooded with Carrie Cooke,” she said, bringing up everything.

The two men looked over her shoulder. “She's being targeted,” Ryan deduced.

Max looked up the latest on the reporter. “There's a book signing today.”

“When?”

“Now.” 

Mike called it in while Ryan tried to get Carrie on the phone. It was too late to stop the massacre at the bookstore. Carrie hadn't been hurt, shaken more than anything else. She hugged him when she saw him. He muttered things in her ear with the two others watching him. “How many assailants?” he asked the interviewing detective.

“CCTV shows three.”

“I only saw two,” Carrie mentioned, “They were wearing masks. A guy and Emma Hill.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” she said. Ryan thought she was lying, for some reason.

Another agent interrupted, “Ma'am, we need you to come with us.”

“Hey. You gonna be all right?” he asked, “I could stay with you.”

Mike wasn't liking the way his Dad was treating her. _This is who you choose a new love life with?_ “I'll be okay, but can I call you later?”

If Mike was five years old again, he would be making the finger pointing at his mouth and gagging sign. Max still picked up his thoughts and nodded in agreement. “Sure.” He watched her leave, and almost picked up on the conversation between them. He ignored it in favor of going around and trying to figure out why exactly someone attacked today. 

Ryan caught the guy that was heading for the second exit. “Hey,” he said, getting Mike's attention. He walked over, the man seeing who was approaching him. “Can I help you?”

Another officer came over. “Sir, you need to come back to the front,” she reminded.

“I'm just looking for the bathroom,” he lied.

Both knew that something was off. There were reports of three attackers, but only two left. Ryan saw how the blood went across him and figured out he was the last one. The problem was, the guy knew he had been caught. He took the officer hostage while everyone aimed at him. “Drop them,” he ordered, “I will kill her.”

“Do as he says,” Ryan said, his dropping first, “Do not shoot him. We need him alive.” The officer held hostage then attacked and got away, thinking that someone would come up. He charged her, and another officer shot to kill. Ryan looked over before keeping a grumble to himself. Apparently, they wouldn't be getting anything out of him.

The three went back to his apartment. Mike and Max kept at going through the phone and computer while Ryan sat out in the living room, contemplating a dinner with Carrie. Then, Mike and Max came out. “Turn on the TV,” she said. He flipped it on and saw Carrie's face. She talked about receiving a video, and saying that the station didn't condone the attack.

Then, the video she mentioned started.

The person was wearing a dreadful Halloween mask. But the voice told them who it was. “Hello world,” Joe narrated, “I hope I have your attention now, for today's massacre was only the beginning. I....” He took off the mask. “Am Joe Carroll, and I am very much alive. I have been reborn, and like the last man who was resurrected, I come bringing salvation.” Ryan tuned out the rest, just staring at the blatant proof of the man who everyone thought he killed talking on TV. “You will never feel safe again, so prepare yourselves. For this is the age of Joe Carroll and my name will live forever.”

Max turned it off. “Did Cooke tell you?” she asked.

“No,” he said, turning around. Max looked incensed that the woman hadn't mentioned to anyone that she had been given it. Mike was shaking slightly. That wasn't as surprising as it should be. “Hey,” he reached out, moving over. Standing next to him, Mike wrapped his arms around him and pressed his face to a shoulder. “It's gonna be okay, Mike,” he reassured, patting and rubbing his back a few times. He looked over at Max and also pulled her in. The three of them hugged in a strange form before Mike let go first.

Calming down, Ryan invited Carrie over, which meant that Mike and Max needed to leave his apartment. Max was planning on Rifftrax and some food, possibly with a boyfriend booty call, so she was covered. Mike got a call before he could ask about hotels and other places for him to stay. Max, with Mike distracted, said, “Don't be so hard on Carrie. You know Joe threatened her. That's why she lied.”

“I know. I wasn't going to do that.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“All right, just remember, at some point, this will actually be over, and we can go on with lives that don't center around this.”

“Well, if you believe it....”

Mike's call ended and he joined them. “Hey, I'll go with you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Work. I'll call tomorrow.”

Ryan didn't know what they were pulling Mike in for that didn't need him, but he wondered why he didn't know. “All right. Be careful, both of you.” He got a chorus of yeahs from them before they left, leaving him alone before Carrie arrived.

He ordered from a restaurant just down the street, because he didn't have the energy to try cooking anything. Everything was set out just as his visitor arrived. “I got your message,” she said, “I would have been here sooner, but I had an FBI detour. You guys really know how to ask the same question over and over.”

Yeah, he remembered those days. “Come on in.”

“Uh, sorry, guys, he means me.” The two officers held back and he nodded before shutting the door in their faces. That had to be a scene in the hallway. NYPD officers protecting his apartment. She turned around when the door was closed, able to talk a little more freely. “I've seen this face before. You're mad at me.” He wasn't doing anything. Maybe, his inner feelings about the video were showing. “I'm sorry I lied.”

“He threatened you and people around you. I was in the exact same position a few times. I'm not mad. I know.”

Apparently, what he thought of her was a big deal. She hastily started wiping up some of the relief tears that came through. Then, she saw the table. “What is this?”

“Thought we were having dinner.”

It felt strange to Ryan. It was the closest thing he had to a date in about a year, maybe a little over, and it was with the woman he couldn't stand, who got him drunk enough to get details of Havenport and everything around it. After actual pleasant conversation, the two started picking up and getting ready to depart. Curious, he asked, “How many guys do you have watching you?”

She nodded to the door. “Those two, and the show's hiring a security team for me.”

“Oo, fancy.” This was always the awkward part. Neither wanting to separate, or end the time. “Good night.” 

“Thank you.” The two of them didn't make a move away from the door. Ryan was waiting for her to leave, she must have been thinking about it. In a minute, neither did, so Ryan closed the door and started kissing her, moving her down to his bedroom. He didn't want to separate and she didn't either.

-

Mike hugged Max before allowing her to leave for her own apartment. Joe Carroll's revelation wasn't helping his nerves and this latest call shot them to hell. He recognized the agent that picked him up and drove out a few miles away to another switch point. He got out and shook hands, a couple of hi's and nods passed around.

Then, someone held out the bag.

He hated wearing the thing, even if it was the best way to keep everything apart. If he couldn't tell Joe or his people where he went, they wouldn't get anything out of him. Not like they knew, but it was still for the fucking best. It always made him scared that instead of where he was supposed to go, he was going to show up right in front of Carroll or a remnant of the previous cult. Nothing like being reminded of a kidnapping when you're visiting one of the reasons for it.

He slipped it on and someone grabbed his arm to lead him to the second car. _Why couldn't I have waited to put this on in here?_ The car started and Mike settled down to sleep while the only thing on was feeds from different law enforcement agencies.

He hadn't realized how much time had passed until the car stopped outside of a hotel in the middle of a different city. The sun was already up when he pulled off the bag to see outside. Handing it to one of the guys, and knowing it would have to be put back on him, he followed a couple of marshals to one of the rooms. Turner was the one that answered the door. “Mike, good to see you,” he said.

“Yeah, you too,” he returned.

“Sorry to hear about Beth.” He just nodded at that, little mentions closing his throat up. “This way.” He led him through the living room and into the bedroom, where the person that wanted to talk to him was waiting.

Claire Matthews had dyed her hair, and probably had colored contacts that he couldn't tell at the moment. “Hi, Mike.”


	10. Teacher's Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire wants to see Ryan, and to kill Joe.
> 
> Mike's hating this shit.

_Mike was the one that Claire had to see first. Turner wasn't in the room, making sure the hospital was secure, but they figured that he would be a better person for Claire to listen anyway. Mitchell told Turner about Ryan and Mike's connection at some point while they were patching the two up, something in Riley's notes and the fact Claire probably knew. So, they figured she would listen to him._

_She started moving and he popped up to make sure she focused on him. “Hey, Claire.”_

_She moaned and opened her eyes, “Mike.”_

_“It's okay, it's okay. Take it slow and easy. You were stabbed. It punctured your lung, but you were lucky. You're going to be okay,” he informed._

_“Ryan, he was hurt. Where's Ryan?”_

_“Surgery, he's gonna be fine.”_

_“Joey.”_

_“He's with your Mom. He's safe, the both of them are safe. It's okay.”_

_Turner came by after the hospital had marshals and agents swarming. He checked with her and she asked roughly the same questions. Then, she said she wanted to see Ryan. “We need to protect you and Joey,” Turner said._

_She couldn't believe this. “You want me to go into hiding,” she stated._

_“Witness protection. We'll relocate you, Joey and your mother, we'll give you new identities.”_

_“I just give up my life?” She looked over at him. “Mike.”_

_He hated the way she was looking at him. He knew it would hurt Ryan. “It's the best way to protect you, Joey and your mother.”_

_“I need to talk to Ryan.”_

_“Look, for this to work, everyone has to believe you died in the OR. This place is already crawling with reporters. We can't risk anyone seeing you.”_

_“I can't even tell Ryan?”_

_“There's protocol, Claire. Witness protection won't allow it.”_

_“No. No, I have to tell Ryan.”_

_“Claire-”_

_“You're asking me to give …. to give up my life.”_

_Turner didn't know how to get through to the woman, but Mike stepped up. “Claire, listen. There are still many of Joe's followers out there. Emma, some of the guys from the Militia. And they would love to kill the biggest reason that Joe was hurt and is now dead. I know you want to be with Ryan, but if he also 'died' it would be suspicious. And even if he didn't join you, but knew you were alive, he would be targeted. Ryan would want you and Joey and your Mother safe.”_

_“I have to tell him.”_

_“You can't.”_

_“I have to. I can't do this to him. I can't,” she cried, “Oh God, oh god. What do I do?”_

_He swallowed down another threat of tears on his part. “Think about Joey. Think about yourself. Witness protection isn't always forever. The rest are gathered up, and one day, you might be able to return,” he lied. There were a few stories like that, but they were few._

Claire was antsy, still standing and moving around. “Saw Joe on TV,” she said, “He's alive.”

“Unfortunately.”

“How is that possible?” He motioned that she would need to sit for this and he followed suit. “What's going on?”

“Joe faked his death. He had a half-brother in England, we're pretty sure that's the body that was found after the explosion. Then he hid, and now he's doing it again,” he explained.

“With new followers.”

“For the most part, yes. All of the Havenport leftovers from the last time are either dead or apprehended, except for Emma Hill.”

She asked, “How does Lily Gray fit into all of this?”

“She's the female version of Joe, just more elusive at the moment. She has money, international connections. We have one of her sons in custody, but he's not talking.”

“And, and your Dad, how's he?”

“Good. Not drinking, had a job, still completely obsessed with Joe,” he revealed. “It was hard, but he got through.”

“You?” she inquired.

He nodded, surprised that she would ask, “I'm fine, mostly.”

Mike saw her looking him over. “I heard about your aunt. I'm sorry.”

He hated that every little reminder still drove him to fall apart. “So am I,” he muttered, wiping his eyes and trying to keep calm.

Claire patted him on the arm before getting up. Her reason for talking to him had her agitated. “They're talking about relocating us again.”

“Yeah, Joe had someone that was trying to get into WitSec files to find Joey. She's been removed from the equation, so it's better safe than sorry now.”

“I don't want to keep running.”

“I know. We'll find him.”

“My son will not be safe until this is over.” _Ryan would agree with you on the same subject._ “I don't want to find him. I want to kill him.”

He sighed, “Get in line. Dad wants to do the same thing.”

She laughed, “And what? He gets first try?”

“No, but you're not the only one that wants him dead. Look, I disagree about what you want to do.”

“Joey is not going to have a life until Joe is gone.” _Yes, he will, it just won't be his original life._ “I don't have a life. Do you?”

“At least you're alive,” he bit out. “Joe thinks you're dead, it has to stay that way. I wasn't around for the murders of all the women named Claire Matthews, but it wasn't fun for Mom and Dad. You want to go back through that?”

She rolled her eyes at the attempted guilt trip. “I can be of help to you.”

“Then write a letter. Go home to Joey. All right, he needs his parent right now. I came here to fill you in, and I've done that. Go home, go back to Joey.” Claire looked down and utterly helpless. He could empathize, but she needed to stay out and safe, otherwise this could all be destroyed. He reached out and hugged her for a few seconds. “Take care of yourself. You and Joey.” He walked out and was escorted back to New York.

-

Ryan was feeling okay when he woke up. Better, actually, since there was a naked Carrie Cooke next to him. Usually that meant he had sex. He carefully removed himself, thinking about the lead up to the events, until he remembered why she was there in the first place.

Joe decided to tell the world he was alive.

Looking back at her, Carrie was still out, so he decided to rewatch the video online, where dozens had posted it within five minutes. Most had been taken down, but a couple, and the news's own site, had them up. He was in the room, paying attention to small details, even though the man had done well to cover anything up.

He heard Carrie calling for him and Ryan didn't want her in this room, especially since she would feast on all the information in it. He exited, closed and locked it behind before she got to it. “Good morning,” he said, standing in front of the door.

“That was very clandestine.”

“Yeah, isn't it?”

“Is that where you do all your secret Joe Carroll stuff?”

He diverted, “Sleep okay?”

“Have you seen my blouse?” she asked, still wanting to get into that room.

Not happening. “I think it came off over here,” he pointed out.

“Oh yeah, right.”

He moved to start making breakfast. “Your bodyguards are still in the hall.”

“The walk of shame.” She started getting dressed.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No, I'm leaving,” she said, “Let's not make this weird. We both needed to blow off some steam. This is post traumatic sex.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Post traumatic sex?”

“So, really, what's in the secret room?”

“It's a secret.”

“And what are you doing today?” He didn't know yet. Probably go over things. He laughed and smiled at her attempt to get information. “You are cute.”

“There are people that would disagree with you.”

“You are,” she repeated. Then, she turned serious. “You know you can trust me, right? You say it's off the record, it's off.”

No reporter is truly off the record in these types of cases. “I had a really nice time last night.”

“Me too. It was fun.” She almost parted after one last kiss before turning back. “I want the story, Ryan, but I also want to help you.” Then she left. Ryan thought about it while before getting ready.

The NSA facility was strict and tightly secured, which he thought was fantastic considering the detention center and Havenport. An agent he didn't recognize walked him after the checkpoint. Another met him. “Special Agent Jeffrey Clarke, I'm your liaison to Director Franklin's office. Anything you need from the FBI task force, you just let me know.”

“Yeah.”

“We scoured all of Jana Murphy's communications. We feel confident that she acted alone in helping Joe Carroll.”

“Has Gina Mendez been cleared yet?”

“We believe Murphy used her relationship with Agent Mendez to access our investigation without Mendez's knowledge. Now, once's she's recovered, and our internal inquiry's complete, she'll be back to duty.”

He doubted the woman was going to stay, having to raise two kids now. “Good.”

He stopped him a little ways down. “Director Franklin also wants me to tell you that you still have our full support moving forward on this. Anything, access, resources, all we ask is that you contact me or Franklin directly.”

“So, if anything goes wrong, it's on me,” he summed up.

“Something like that.” They walked forward, waving off a sign in sheet.

“Why haven't you charged Strauss yet?” Ryan asked.

“We've been holding off. Given his relationship to Joe Carroll, we figured we'd find additional bodies to pin on him.”

“But you haven't, right? He's too smart for that.”

“What are you hoping to get out of him?”

“He said he trained other killers. I need to know if that's what Joe's reaching out to.”

After being reminded to not hurt the man again, which he knew would be a pretty bad idea, they allowed him in the interrogation room. “Hello, Doctor Strauss,” he said, walking over to the man. He wasn't talking to him. Okay, fine. Just allows him to be irritating. “So, Doc, we killed one of Joe's acolytes, Lance Tierney.” He laid out the folder. “Was he one of yours? Did you introduce them?”

“When will I be able to speak to my lawyer?”

“You've been careful for so long,” he avoided. Hey, he didn't know. “Wow, it must kill you to know you're gonna spend the rest of your life in a cell because of Joe's mistake.” That made him think about something. Ryan pushed forward. “You used your medical practice to cover up your murders. Didn't you? A few dead on the table, as long as the death rate remained reasonable, no one's gonna notice. It's genius.”

“You're appealing to my vanity.”

“Is it working?” he asked.

“What's Joe done now?” Strauss inquired. Ryan was playing a little hard to get. “Oh, come now, if you want something, you're going to have to give something.”

“He sent followers to murder people at a book signing.”

“Followed by a grandiose pronouncement, I'm sure. I never did quite understand his need for attention. The greater accomplishment is to kill quietly, unnoticed.”

“Hard to see your students shortcomings?”

“And even harder to admit. Does he know you have me? He can't be happy about that.” Ryan pushed the file forward. Tit for tat. “Lance Tierney, this fool isn't the caliber of student I'd work with. I have no idea where Joe found him. He has quite a gift to incite obsession and attract people.” Okay, now this was aiming at him. He folded up the file and got ready to walk out. “Like you. Look at you. Perfect example of obsession. You stole his wife, wrote a book about him, became a teacher like he was. You even have a son.”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

“Did you know one of many traits of a psychopath is to mirror another's behavior? You have no life of your own. So you copy someone elses.”

“That's funny, because I'm the one that had a kid first. Claire divorced him and came to me. I was offered the job, I didn't seek it. And the book was a stupid move. But everything else, it wasn't on purpose. Just a series of events that make it look like your conclusion is right.” He left after that, the man staring at him. It felt good to tell someone off like that.

After getting Carrie and the all-clear to release information that Strauss had been arrested, his little investigation room turned into a hot area. Max and a couple of FBI techs were wired in to the phone that they had gotten from Jana. He made sure to watch it and make sure it got out.

It didn't take long for the phone to start ringing. He couldn't hold the actual item, too many wires, so he worked on getting the handset in while everyone else took position. They could all listen in, but he was the only one talking. “Jana,” Joe said.

“Hey, Joe,” Ryan voiced, “It's been a while.”

“Ryan.”

He thought he heard Hill in the background. “Yeah, your friend Jana couldn't come to the phone. Yeah, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she had a little accident, and by accident I mean a bullet went through her brain.”

“Well, I expect you're, uh, I expect you're feeling quite clever right now.”

“Yeah, I have my moments.” Max rolled her eyes.

“Tell me, Ryan, is this a 'keep him on the line while we trace the call' call? Because you know me better than that. It's not gonna work.” He heard Emma again and had to stifle some laughter. “I must ask, how is Michael? Honestly, I was very surprised when I heard about Debra being his mother. I had no clue. Has he taken it well? I mean, you rushed over to save Claire and predictably left him with the body of his mother. Then, you decided to be with Claire instead of him. And now with the death of his aunt, her sister, I must say, the Hardy curse is inheritable. Has he succumb to the same behaviors you have? Your drinking, cutting everyone out.”

Max looked up at him at that. He really didn't need to be reminded about Debra and the shit he pulled after Joe's 'death'. It just served to further his guilt more. Which is what Joe wanted. Instead of turning it back onto him, he turned something else. “Hey, your friend Doctor Strauss says hello.”

“Yeah. You've, you've been bonding?”

“Yeah, he's very disappointed in you, Joe.”

“Oh, dear, well, well, his disappointment is about to get a whole lot worse.”

They couldn't get a fix. It was almost like just after they got Maggie's phone and Mike opened something that acted like a virus. “Why is that?”

“This is not really about you and me anymore, Ryan. No, it's, it's far more important than that.”

“And I take it you found some new friends, or students. Is Emma a teacher's assistant?”

“Ha! You're fishing, Ryan. Yes, I have found some new disciples, followers who are more devoted to me than ever. No, as a matter of fact, I have a holy army of warriors who are about to rain merry hell down on this world.”

He was hinting at something. Joe wanted him to figure it out, and not, he wanted to see if he was still as good. “A holy army, huh? So, what, you don't love Poe anymore? You found a new 'God' to worship?”

“Yes, yes, Ryan, we, we no longer live in literature. No, I've moved on to the greatest story ever told. I'm gonna save the world, Ryan, one soul at a time. So, why don't you sit down, relax, and enjoy today's show?” He ended his side and techs reported that they hadn't found him. Unsurprising.

He walked out of the small room, feeling a little strangled with all the eyes on him. Max followed him out after settling her side. “So...” she started.

“He's found a new cult,” he stated.

“There's no way he built up a new crew when he was in Arkansas.”

“Found. He probably took over a religious sect.” Clarke had followed them out. “Have Franklin's people look into any known religious cults within a day's drive of New York.”

“Yeah, you know the way they routed that call to behave like a virus, that's highly unusual,” he mentioned, “We'll find the origination point, it's just gonna take some time.”

“We don't have time. Something's happening today.” Clarke went back to start organizing Franklin's people, working on different avenues on what they could do with the phone call and gathering information on sects. They had all left Ryan's apartment when Mike showed up. “Hey, what was the work thing?” he asked him.

“Just some paperwork and things down in DC,” he lied. 

Ryan thought it was lying, but that it was something else, like maybe he was meeting with Beth's friends. “Hey, if you want to....”

“Dad,” he stopped, “Being by myself isn't going to help. I rather be here.” Ryan understood that. His previous feeling of guilt manifested in yanking him in and hugging him for a couple of seconds before letting him go and moving him forward. “Okay. That was surprising. Did that have to do with Joe's call?”

“Yes,” Max answered.

“So, what are we doing?”

“Trying to pin down Joe's new holy army,” Ryan said, “Lance, the dead follower from the bookstore, seems like our best lead.”

Max picked up, “Yeah, I talked with his girlfriend's parents. Mallory Hodge went off the grid with Lance two years ago. Her parents said they were inseparable.” She handed Mike her tablet so he could quickly read it himself. “She lost her job at a Brooklyn restaurant because she would sneak off with him.”

“Could she be part of the new army?”

“Nothing on social media, but I'm up on her parents' landlines, cell phones, and couple of her high school friends as well. Thinking Lance's death will bring her out.”

“We'll read you in. I'll get you a separate transcript of the call otherwise Max won't get that back.” He pointed at the tablet, which Mike gave back to her.

“Thanks.” Ryan went into the room. “Sorry I had to disappear.”

Max asked, “Where were you?”

“Work related, Max.”

“And you couldn't tell Ryan, me or apparently Spencer. I called him down in DC, see if he had seen you. He didn't.”

“I was in a different area,” he lied, again.

“Right. I also called Garcia, and even she didn't know, and you always visit her.”

This was the reason he hated lying to his family. “It was work related, Max. I just can't say anything else beyond that,” he repeated. She stared at him for a couple of minutes before going to join Ryan. He sighed and walked in as well.

The beginning of the transcript made his blood run a little hotter. Joe always knew what to say to get people either on his side or to irritate and make them angry and annoyed. Mike didn't think about scared, afraid or terrified. That was always a given. He pushed past the guilt tripping and worked his way down to the purposely given hints. “You said Franklin's guys are already going through religious sects?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to call Hailly in ARU?” He looked over at him. “Mom trusted the guy, but I'm not sure if he's connected to Joe or the new cult.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, less people is better.”

The call about a murdered family drew them away from their investigating. Clarke led them in, explaining the deaths as forensics picked it up. He then showed them another murder that happened in New York. The mention of the not was chilling, and it made the two worry about the next steps that were planned. Ryan said, “He's calling for blood sacrifice.”

“Bastardizing biblical principle to manipulate the new followers into killing for him,” Mike added, uncomfortable with the connection to other leaders he read about.

“Any connection between the victims?”

“It's random, so far,” he stated, “Excuse me.”

“So, it's not about who the victim is, it's about what they can do.”

Ryan's phone rang and the two went to a relatively quiet area. “Whaddya got, Max?”

“Facial recognition software picked up Lance's girlfriend, Mallory Hodge, on city surveillance footage. I have her in Brooklyn Heights at Montague and Hicks about ten minutes ago, but we lose her after that.”

Mike looked up. “The restaurant she was fired from.”

“Blood will be spilled,” he recited, “Nowhere will be safe, not your homes, street, where you eat.”

“He was listing the places.”

He nodded, “Let's go. Max, I call later.”

With Ryan driving, they made it over to the restaurant in under fifteen minutes. Locals were backing them up, but they entered first. Nothing happened until the woman yelled out that someone had a knife, and then a man took her by the throat and held her hostage. Both father and son ordered the man to drop the knife he had. Then, Mallory stepped out. “Mallory, you don't want to do this,” Ryan tried coaxing, “Just drop the knife and everything's going to be okay.” He went with another step. “Your parents miss you, Mallory. And as a parent, I know how that feels. Everything's going to be okay.”

He was getting through to her, seeing her drop the knife. “What are you doing?” her partner hissed.

“That's great, honey,” he said, “Okay, now, I need you to tell me where Joe is. So others can get home to their parents.”

“You can't tell him!” he shouted at her, “This isn't about Joe, this is about all of us.”

“He's lying,” Mike said, “Joe manipulates people to do what he wants without regard.”

“Mallory,” Ryan coaxed, “Come on, tell us.” Before she could, the man let go of his hostage, who ran at Ryan. Distracted, he slit Mallory's throat before Mike placed a couple of rounds into his chest. Ryan knelt down beside her, reassuring her while she bled out.

In the aftermath, Ryan listed off something that could be used to find Joe, small things. Mike offered to go through religious cults to find the other guy. “Hey, prioritize groups that believe in blood sacrifice,” Ryan suggested.

“Got it.” He got out his phone, calling Hailly and getting info from the ARU while walking out. Ryan was only a few feet from him, and he dropped him off at the hotel he was now staying at before going back to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Garcia - Criminal Minds
> 
> For obvious reasons.


	11. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cults, misdirection and escapees. Oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only hit 2400+ words. It's one of the shortest chapters in this or Following.

Max and Mike had been up a good portion of the morning, going through cult files. Mike was getting freaked out over some of the ones he discovered, while trying to figure out the one that Joe had taken over. The number narrowed down, but not enough, he went over to Ryan's apartment, ready to get to work more. Walking up, he saw two security guards standing at the door and realizing that Carrie had been staying with him that night. He shouldn't feel bad thoughts about it. His Dad was getting over Claire. That should be a good thing, right? Maybe he'll use Carrie to get someone else.

Please, let him get someone else.

He knocked and got his Dad at the door. “Morning, Mike,” the woman said, coming up behind him.

“Good morning, Carrie,” he answered.

She didn't pay him much attention. “I'll call you later,” she told Ryan, smiling while she left with her bodyguards.

“Was I interrupting you guys?” he smirked, “'Cause I can always come back.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You want coffee?”

“Yes, please,” he said, going over to the kitchen and plucking out the mug he basically claimed. “With all the hints of holy and stuff from Joe's phone call, Max and I decided to look up possibilities at the Meggido database this morning. You remember when Mom told you about that?”

“Cults and domestic terrorism.”

“Right, well, other than giving us months of nightmare fuel, Max stayed behind to look at unregistered ones, we have a first pass of seventy-three that it might be. Small, vulnerable and prone to ritualistic behavior. All use some sort of warped religious doctrine and all within a days drive of New York.” Ryan took a quick look before staring back up at his son, in the middle of not believing this and how were they going to narrow it down. Mike smiled indulgently at the first face before drinking some of the coffee.

Then, they got to work. Mike finished getting more cults from Max and starting to go through them. He wished he had paid attention to Mom more when she had talked about some of the things he needed to know now. Ryan had a new email and found more information over the guy they got last night. “Patrick Trano, he served two years in Pakistan and disappeared on discharge. His family talked about possible PTSD, they had no idea he joined up with a cult,” he read, finding out some things that worried him.

“What about Lily Gray?” Mike asked, “Did Clarke give you an update?”

He sighed, “Mike....”

“Don't 'Mike' me!” he interrupted, “Did Clarke give you an update?”

“They've initiated an international manhunt, and based on her resources, they're thinking non-extradition country.” Mike knew it, figured that's where the woman would be now, protecting her last son. He just felt like shit having it spelled out. “You okay?” He shrugged. “Hey.” Ryan nudged him with his hand, making him look up. “We're going to get through this. All of us.”

That sounded weird coming out of his Dad's mouth. He figured it had something to do with the woman in his life. “That is way too optimistic of you, Dad,” he commented.

“No, it isn't.”

“Yeah, it is.” Ryan started smiling and he couldn't help but copy him. “Is this... Is it Carrie Cooke's doing? I know, I know, not my damn business, but.... I haven't seen you this happy since I was in high school.”

He nodded, “I like her. She's this combination of a few of the women I've dated in the past. Including Debra. She's not what I thought.”

Mike didn't know how to respond to that. “Okay,” he said, getting back to his computer duties.

They only got a break when Clarke called them about an attack on a bakery. Both rushed out, calling Max to update her but told to stay inside and keep trying to find the cult. Clarke updated them when they arrived and when they went inside the building. Hearing the details, it seemed to be one of Joe's attacks. “Is there a message?” Ryan asked, “The other attacks came with a message from Joe.”

“I'm not aware of any message from Joe,” he answered, continually moving to the back. The bodies of the workers were interesting only in the fact they were the last killed as the followers escaped through there. “They killed two cooks, wounded two more, and then they exited through that back door,” Clarke said, stepping to the side for the other two to see.

Ryan looked over at the wall to see a schedule hanging up. “Why is Joe Carroll taking out a bakery?” Mike asked, thinking maybe he knew one of the patrons or a worker. “Why this bakery?”

“How many employees did you say?” he inquired.

“Five in all, one was killed in front, two back here and two were taken to the emergency room.”

“According to this, there were only three people working today. Where were the last two taken?”

“I don't know, the nearest one.” He asked over the radio and Mike looked over at Ryan, hoping that this wasn't going where he thought it was.

_“They were taken to Manhattan Memorial.”_

“That's the hospital where Luke is being kept,” Ryan said.

“It's Lily,” Mike concluded. They ran outside, getting orders out while trying to get over to the hospital and stop them from achieving their goals. Once there, along with tactical, they moved quickly up to the area that had been sectioned off for prisoner holding. The woman reported the ambulance, and they had quick confirmation that they stopped them that way. “Hey, that was everyone on the floor,” he informed to Ryan, who was staring at the former bed of Luke for pieces of clues. “The administration's looking at IDs.”

He nodded, “All right. We go floor to floor. You take the north staircase, I'll take south.”

“Careful.”

“You too.” The two separated.

Mike ended up interrupting a tact guy bringing up a group of personnel. He made it through checking three of the people when the last wouldn't show her badge. “Ma'am, would you please turn around your ID so I can see it?” he asked, feeling uneasy. The rest had been fine allowing him, but this woman...

“Ah, I'm sorry,” she apologized, “I'm really shaky.” He didn't buy it, and she realized she had been caught. Pushing the nurse to the side, she produced a gun that Mike managed to get out of her hands quickly. He was thrown against the wall so she could run down.

Mike intercepted her, throwing her against the wall to knock her off balance before bringing out his weapon to threaten her. “Where is Lily Gray?” he demanded.

“I don't talk,” she said, glaring at him.

“Tell me where she is, or you die!”

“Then I die.”

“Where is she?!”

“You're just gonna have to kill me.” He wouldn't, not actually. He would shoot somewhere non-fatal to bring her in. He wanted Lily. She moved forward to attack and the tact guy shot off about a dozen rounds at her to stop her quickly. It was planned. She would rather die than tell him anything.

He looked up at the tact guy, nodding. That's what he was trained for. Mike checked, but there really wasn't any reason that she would be alive. _Damn it._ It wasn't the tact guys fault, but he was still irrationally pissed off as he continued going down and trying to find anything else. 

-

Ryan didn't encounter anyone on the way down, and he wondered why no one was covering the area. With the area interconnected, tactical should have diverted some down here to clear out. He got to a closed room, locked and figured that there might be something to that. Shooting the lock out, he then opened the door and walked in. There were more tunnels, old and mostly for the plumbing and electrical work than storage or anything useful. It was quiet, and something told him he would find what he was looking for.

Checking a few different hallways and rooms he came across one that had a broken lock. That's the way he went, carefully. Using his cell phone for light, he checked everything he could. _Second escape route right into the Marketplace._

_“Hey, Ryan, where are you?”_

He took off the radio he had to answer. “They're heading to the Marketplace outside the hospital,” he reported, “Get units there, now.” He started going faster, thinking that he could catch up with them when he heard something moving around in a closet. Thinking that it could be a stray animal, but not sure, he carefully moved forward with the light shining on everything he could see.

Which is how he found Luke hiding behind one of the shelves.

Well, he did say stray animal. “Hello, Ryan,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

Stupid question, but he wasn't going to be distracted. “Get on the ground,” he ordered, putting the phone down and having both hands on his gun.

“It's good to see you, too.”

“On the ground, now!”

“Oh, come on,” he complained, “This ground is filthy, man.”

Ryan was about to repeat again when someone came up behind him, gun at his skull. _I need to get better at checking that shit._ “Down on your knees,” the newcomer said. He wasn't going fast enough and the guy yelled it in his ear.

“What took you so long?” Luke questioned, moving out when Ryan wasn't a threat.

The guy didn't answer, directing Ryan to lace his fingers. “By now, the FBI and the NYPD have cordoned off a three block radius around the hospital, so there's no way out,” he informed, just making sure they know what they're getting into. “So, your mother's money at work?”

“Yep. Trained killers. Mom always knew the best.”

“How are you going to get out still? They've already started person to person searches.”

He couldn't see Luke, but the next question meant he knew he was getting to him. “He's got a point, how are we getting out of here?”

“Murph's got a car,” he said.

Luke had the information and so did Ryan. He grabbed the wrist holding the gun and managed to bring him down. He fought with him for a couple of minutes before shooting him and killing him. Then, he ran after Luke. The probably was, the Marketplace was busy, and the younger man had disappeared among them. “Damn it.”

Clarke ended up showing up after he radioed him. He had gone back and rifled the guy's coat to find something useful. He did. “This is the cell phone they used to contact Lily Gray. Have cyberforensics look into it,” he listed, “Any on the ground search?”

“We got every available agent and officer patrolling the area, but he could be anywhere by now, Ryan,” he said. Yeah, he figured. Damn Lily and her money. Clarke left to organize and he was left to think.

“Ryan!”

He looked over and saw Carrie standing by the tape. “Let her through,” he said. The officer pulled it up to allow her in. The hug was unexpected, but he wrapped her up as tightly as he could.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I heard you were a hero again today,” she mentioned, “You need to stop doing that, it's very stressful.”

“No hero, not today.”

That assured her, even though she could probably tell he was lying in bits. “I'm going on air, I have to go,” she said, reluctant. “But, dinner later?”

“Yeah. I'll have to kick Mike out, but he got a hotel room, or he can go over to Max's.” She smiled and walked off, a cameraman waiting to get her talking.

Ryan went back to his car, where Mike was sitting in the passenger's seat. He noticed his son was a little teary and wondered what happened. “Hey,” he mumbled, getting into the driver's seat.

“Too many resources,” he whispered, “She has too many resources. She got into a government-secured hospital and managed to get her son out. How.... How do we go up against her? She's worse than Joe, more calculated and willing to kill someone's last link to their mother for revenge. I don't.... I don't understand it. I'm trying, but I can't....”

Ryan pulled him over the separator, trying to impersonate a hug. “It can't be explained, not in the way that we think, okay?” He nodded. “We're going to find them. We will find Lily and Joe. And those twins.”

He rubbed his head against an arm. “I don't see it.”

“I do. I'm optimistic, I'm hopeful. You're supposed to be the one like this.” He had a moment of deep melancholy. “If Debra wasn't trying to comfort you, she would be laughing at this reversal.” Mike laughed, but it was wet sounding. “Okay, all of this is going to be over. And then we'll be able to be a family again, okay? Without needing to be together for a case, or Joe, or Lily. We're gonna have our own lives and be a family again, because the universe owes us. Us and Max and Jenny. You hear me.” He nodded again. “Good, let's go.”

Mike managed to complete his hug impersonation. “Thanks, Dad.” The two separated before going back to Ryan's apartment. The older man planned on dinner with Carrie, but he ate a snack with Mike before getting to his phone.

“Max has been freaking out. She's pissed when she had to learn about Luke's escape on the news,” he said.

Mike had been getting ready to leave so he wouldn't have to encounter Carrie. “Well, she missed a big day.”

Someone started knocking on the door. “Must be her.”

“I got it,” Mike said, going over and opening it automatically. Instead of his cousin, he saw Turner and Daniels. Claire was here. _Shit._ He backed up so he could get to his Dad before he saw her. If he found out Mike had been keeping this from him....

“Agent Weston, good evening. Mister Hardy, I'm Brad Daniels, assistant director, US Marshal service,” he explained.

“Hello, Ryan,” Turner said.

“Scott, what...”

“Hey, hey,” Mike interrupted, “I'm sorry. I can explain.”

“Mike...”

“Ryan,” another, supposedly dead, voice said. Mike turned around and moved so that the two of them could see Claire standing at the door.

He was shocked, badly. “Claire?”


	12. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan. Ryan...
> 
> Everything's just screwed up around and by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this probably should have been up some point within the last week. But I haven't been on the computer as much due to storms and other things.
> 
> Also, I made up for last chapter, apparently.

Ryan was staring at the woman that he was sure died last year. Mike had told him. He wouldn't lie, not after he lost Debra. Yet, here she was and he wasn't sure exactly how to react to the facts at the moment. “How?” he whispered, focusing on her.

“Scott, can you clear the room, please?” she asked.

He nodded, “Okay, fellas, let's go.”

Mike looked back at Ryan, pleading him to not be angry with him. “Dad, I'm sorry,” he said.

Except he was angry. His own kid had lied to him about the woman he cared about. He knew what the hell he had gone through, the dark spots in his drinking. Why in the hell hadn't he told him at any point? What, did Mike want him to himself? “Get out now,” he muttered.

“Dad, look...”

“Leave,” he growled, glaring at him. The hurt on Mike's face didn't register. His own pain and the anger simmering had completely blocked out that any notion of caring at the moment. His son had lied to _him_ and he didn't fucking care at the moment.

Mike looked down and kept his head down before almost rushing out of the apartment. Turner frowned at his behavior before shutting the door. Daniels looked over at the other man, the agent already down the steps. The older man stopped him before he asked. “Hardy's a jackass,” Turner muttered, “And yeah, after Parker's death, he chose Claire over him as well.” His temporary partner shook his head.

Ryan was now alone with the woman he loved, grieved over. Hurt was increasing and a part of him wondered if this was a nightmare that he wouldn't be able to leave. Some sort of payback for the shit he's pulled since Havenport. “You okay?” she asked, “Ryan, please say something.”

“There's a headstone with your name on it,” he uttered. It wasn't good, but he said something. Something about how he believed she was dead.

She knew that. She hadn't wanted him to not know. “I'm so sorry,” she said.

“I don't understand. What happened?” he asked.

“I survived,” she explained, “They took me straight from the hospital to WitSec with Joey and my Mom.”

“You were dead. That's all I had.”

“I know.” 

She moved closer to touch him and he backed away, still not sure about this not being a nightmare. He's starting to tear up. “Sometimes, I dream....” He can't finish. It's stuck in his throat, because he doesn't want to admit it and have her disappear in front of him. Instead, he reached out, carefully touching her face.

“It's okay, I'm real.” Her own hands came up to join the wanderer and he held her tightly, not wanting to let go.

He doesn't know how long it was before the two dropped down on his couch. “I begged them to let me see you, but they kept talking about protocol and secrecy and everything was happening so fast. The only thing I knew was I had to protect Joey.”

“Did Mike know where you were?” he questioned.

“No, no, only that I was alive,” she told him, “He didn't know where, don't blame him.” She already saw it, but she knew that Ryan would hate himself later if he kept thinking about it.

“One phone call, I would have joined you.”

“Just because we thought Joe was dead, it didn't mean it was over. Mike pointed that out. Emma hated my guts. Others as well. I couldn't ask that of you.”

“That was not your decision to make, Claire. That was mine, no one elses.”

“I did it for Joey. I had to think of him, like you would think for Mike.” _And would you have really left Mike all by himself? Made him an orphan by coming with me?_

“I'm sorry. I didn't want things to go this way.” It was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, Ryan seemingly picking up what they had been talking about and what she had thought. “How's Joey?”

“It's tough. My Mom's been great with him. He's seeing a specialist, so he's adjusting. He's better.”

He's still seeing her, picking out everything he can. “You look good.”

She laughed, because she doesn't even look that great to herself. “The hair, you're kidding me? It takes a lot of work to make it look this bad.”

He thought she was beautiful. “I'm staring right at you, and I can't believe you're here.”

“Not a day goes by that I don't think about you,” she said, “And Joe.” That shattered the semi-calm that was around. “This needs to end, Ryan. Living in the shadows is no way to live. I want to finish this.”

“How?”

“By killing Joe.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“We can do it together. I'm the last thing he's going to see coming, so if we can just surprise him....”

“No. Claire,” he interrupted, “You need to get back to Joey. You were safe there.”

“I'm not safe anywhere,” she stated, “And neither is Joey, not until Joe is dead.”

-

Max didn't understand why her phone went off in the middle of Fallon, and she had to wonder who it was, because Ryan had gotten back with a short message about explaining in the morning. Instead, she saw it was from her cousin, the one that normally liked to call and not text.

_Don't hate me._

Okay, that surprised her. _Why would I hate you?_

_Cuz Dad hates me and he probably told you._

“What?” Okay, she needs to find out what's going on. She called his phone and heard the ring tone he picked out for her on the other side of her door. Frowning, she got up and went over before quickly opening it a fraction. Mike was sitting with his knees up to his chest on the other side of her door, looking miserable. He glanced up when he heard the door open and Max saw a couple of tears sliding down. “Mind explaining this?” she asked, waving her phone, “Uncle Ryan doesn't hate you.”

“Yes, he does,” he whined. “I didn't tell him something and now he hates me.”

She sensed a story she needed to hear. “Inside, before my neighbors start calling the local patrol.” He got up and moved inside. She prodded him into taking off his jacket before dropping back into her original spot on her couch. “Okay, what didn't you tell Ryan?”

“Claire Matthews is alive.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. _Oh boy._ She wanted alcohol and probably Mike did too, instead she brought out her death by chocolate ice cream that was bound to be finished off and two spoons. “Come on,” she said, sitting back down and waving one at him. He jumped over and took the remaining spoon. “Whole story up to tonight.” He took a large scoop before starting.

Max was glad for the chocolate choice.

-

Ryan got called out early after hearing about the attack on Carrie. Torn between the two women, he hugged Carrie and reassured her. When she asked about staying over, he diverted, unable to give her an answer. Claire was still at his apartment and he couldn't have anyone else finding out about her. Once back with the new message, he plugged it into his computer with Claire watching. “So, Carrie Cooke gave this to you, the one with the book?”

“She was trying to be helpful,” he diverted.

Claire saw it. There was something a little more into that. She didn't expect Ryan to remain grieving and celibate, but still finding out about possible girlfriends wasn't fun. He started the video and she came forward to watch. Joe's lecture was condescending, using religion heavily and Ryan was trying to figure out the hints. Then, the man mentioned Kingston Tanner. _Target._ Then he quoted something that interested Claire, making her rewind to hear it again. “Joe quoting the bible, that's new,” she said, “His family was very religious. He always had a lot of anger when it came to religion. He became an atheist.”

“One more thing we have in common,” he muttered.

She shook her head. “I believe in God. God is hope, and there is always hope.”

“This coming from the woman that wants to kill her ex-husband,” he pointed out.

“I'm not a Saint, Ryan,” she reminded. The two of them were close and Ryan felt that old spark come back up.

“So, Joe's waging war on God and religion,” he said, moving away from her and breaking it, “And Tanner's his target after the man used him to up his statue.”

Claire decided to check something on the quote that Joe said. “Joe's quoting Matthew. 'Jesus said, I did not come to bring peace, but a sword,' but he omitted the last part, 'I came to set a man against his son and a mother against her daughter.' Does Tanner have children?” She thought about Mike, but if Joe's target is Tanner, then it would make more sense.

“I'm gonna call Clarke, tell him what's going on,” he informed.

“Or, we can just go ourselves,” she suggested, “Look, if this could lead us to Joe, I don't want anyone getting in the way of us putting a bullet in his head.” She finished looking up the information and found the kid's social page. “Kingston Tanner has one son, he goes to Northfield in Connecticut. Great, let's go.”

“No, no, I'm not gonna put you in that kind of jeopardy.”

“Ryan, I'm not a victim. I'm here, I'm here to help.”

“And what about the marshals in the hall? They're not gonna let you out of your sight.”

“Oh, like you don't know how to slip them,” she mentioned. Claire knew Ryan.

She knew him, all right, just not enough to tell when he's still leaving her behind. “All right,” he falsely gave in, “Give me ten minutes to distract the marshals. I'll text you when you're clear to come down.” He grabbed his jacket and headed down, telling Turner what he had planned, then calling Max. 

He shouldn't have been surprised that Mike had gone over to her. And that he actively ignored him by turning his back on him when he showed up. Ryan hugged her and he received two pats on his back. Okay, she wasn't happy with him either. “Mike told me,” she said, before adding a minute later. “You okay?”

“I'm okay.”

She knew the reason why Claire was there. Mike and her had arguments over it. “Why now?”

“Later,” he said. “I think Kingston Tanner's son may be Joe's next target.”

Mike couldn't ignore that, and he tried, but he turned around to them. “The televangelist's son?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

“Northfield College,” he answered, turning back to Max. “I need you to go back to the apartment, get me a campus address, and any other information you can dig up on this kid. Okay?”

“Can I volunteer to do that instead?” Mike muttered. If he went up to the apartment, and seemingly to deal with Claire, it was a better trade off than dealing with his father right now.

“Will do,” Max said, not oblivious to what her cousin said.

“Hey, keep an eye on Claire,” he motioned, “She's gonna be mad that I left her up there.”

“Me? I've never met her. Maybe Mike should....”

“Introduce yourself,” he cut off, “She'll like you.” There was no arguing with him and she walked up to his apartment. Ryan got into the driver's side and texted 'Sorry' up to Claire. Mike joined him in the passenger's seat and they were off.

Max walked in just as Claire must have received the text. “Hi, I'm Max. You're Claire, and Ryan's a jackass,” she said, “I'm his niece.”

“Where's Ryan?”

“He left.”

“He left?”

“Did you really think he was going to allow you to go?”

“So, he went to the college alone?”

“He went with Mike.” She sighed and threw her phone on the breakfast bar. Max didn't know what exactly to do, so she went into the room and shut it behind her.

-

Mike had turned away from his father when he started driving. The air in the car was thick. He didn't want to break it, didn't want his Dad throwing anything at him that would make him hurt even more. He was acting like a child and he didn't really care at the moment. There wasn't anything his father would listen to that would make him hate him any less.

They're already out of New York and heading fast to Connecticut. Ryan had talked to Clarke about agents that could get there, but it would take a while for the team to get up and secure Tanner's son. He looked over at his own son, who had gone back to ignoring him. Claire had mentioned last night to not be mad at Mike, and Turner had repeated it when they came in to talk with the woman. The only thing that would complete the guilt trip was Debra showing up in a dream and yelling at him for what he did. There may have been some repeated memories last night in his sleep, Mike in the hospital after the cult had attempted to get Claire's location out of him.

It had been his job then, and probably still was just after their attack. Hell, they probably thought that because Mike was his son, she would listen to him a lot more.

He sighed, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the conversation he was about to embark on. “I'm pissed,” Ryan started, “I'm fucking pissed off. I thought I lost two of the women I loved in the same day. I thought things were my fault. And to find out that Claire is alive, that it wasn't my fault. That you kept that information from me, even in my darkest moments....” Ryan had to calm himself down before saying the next part. “I know it was your job, but a part of me hates that you kept to it so well, that you didn't allow anything to slip.” He paused himself to say the next part in the calmest voice he could manage. “I don't hate you. I hate that you did your job so well.”

He barely heard the next part, but he still heard it. “It's the same thing, Dad. You treated me like crap for doing my job and with Beth's death,” Mike mumbled, “We lost Mom. Joey didn't deserve to lose his mother like I did, so I did my job to keep her and you safe and you treated me like crap last night after you found out. You didn't do it the first time and it fucking hurt when you did it now.”

There was a heavy pause in their talking. Ryan almost forgot about last year. Mike had protected her then at the expense of almost losing his life and he had done the same thing to lose his father's caring and trust when it was found out. He really didn't need Debra's voice in the back of his head telling him off. It still happened and he knew he had screwed up. “I probably would have wanted her to be safe,” he admitted, “Her, and Joey. I'm sorry about the way I acted last night.” His right hand reached over and squeezed close to his shoulder, the closest he could come to something of a hug.

Mike looked at the hand and wanted to accept the parody that could be given while driving. Instead, he said, “I'll accept your apology in ten minutes.” Ryan rolled his eyes and messed with his hair, earning a whine and his son shrinking into his seat to keep away from him.

-

Max had just gotten the address and sent it to Mike when there was knocking on the closed door. Well, unless one of the marshals had come in, it had to be Claire. She opened it to see thought of woman on the other side. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I'm, I'm just going a little crazy out here,” she admitted. Max opened the door more and moved so she could see the room. For a minute, she scanned over what Ryan had been doing for the last few months. Her own face was still up there, along with Debra's. She figured it was a wall of murdered victims. Claire knew it had hit hard, but to see this.... “How is he?”

“He's been doing well,” Max told her. _It's someone else we're worried about._

“I'm glad,” she said, “He looks healthy, sober. Is he going to meetings?”

“He was, up until this. He's doing okay. He had a good year, or I did with him. Pretty sure Mike did as well.”

She nodded. “So, he's moved on?”

“He's trying.”

“I'm not here to hurt Ryan.”

She started, “Last year, when he thought you died, he fell apart. He couldn't even follow Aunt Debra's last wishes.”

“I hated what I did to him.”

“It's not what you did to just him.”

“I did what I had to do, what was best for my son.”

“Oh, I get that. I do, but I need to watch what's best for the two of them. Because whatever affects Ryan affects Mike and I don't want to have to pick him up after another drinking binge.”

Her face showed a little of the pain that she felt as a mother. “I understand that.”

“Okay,” she said, “If you would excuse me, I need to make a phone call.”

“Yeah, sure.” Claire walked out into the living room, closing it behind her.

She calmed herself down getting everything back up before calling Ryan. At that point, the two were not that far from the campus, maybe forty-five minutes. “Yeah, Max?” the older man answered.

“How far are you?”

“Not much. What do you got on this kid?”

“Typical legacy kid, Cs and suspended license following a second DUI. He had a lit class at noon. No others today, so where you're going to find him is the Alpha Beta Omega fraternity.”

“Got it. Thanks, Max.” He ended the call and started going faster.

They arrived after dark and noticed that there was nothing going on inside. That concerned them. Ryan knocked and after receiving no answer, the two walked in. The place was empty. There was no way this was natural. “Hello?” he called out.

“Where the hell is everybody?”

Ryan caught sight of blood and saw dragging marks leading up the stairs. Mike saw them as well. Guns out, they made their way up. A thud alerted them to the way they needed to go. Ryan's first check netted nothing, but Mike led ahead and nodded to the obvious door at the end of the hall.

They opened the door and experienced someone running out straight at them. Ryan got a hold of the guy and had him up against the wall. “Where is Joe Carroll?” he demanded. There was nothing but muffling from him. Mike turned around and saw several in the same position. Another ran at him, slashing his arm. He shot twice at that one, killing him. He ordered the rest on the ground before Ryan gave the warning about the masks being glued on their faces. They heard someone cry a name behind them and saw more of the new cult members. Ryan went after them, chasing them down to a van that sped off with them. He had a feeling that he saw Preston Tanner.

He realized this was it, he needed to follow that van. They knew where Joe was, they would lead him to the man. He could stop this, for Claire and Joey, for Mike and Max, for himself. After calling in Clarke to get to the house, also sharing that there were several kids that needed help, he got into his car and drove off.

Mike didn't know where his father was. But after Clarke's people and EMTs got on scene to take care of the victims, he relaxed enough to let someone bandage his arm and give a report on what he think happened before evidence gets it all back. “They glued the masks on the kids, hoping we'd slaughter them.”

“What about Preston Tanner?”

“They took him. He's not one of the masked ones,” he reported.

“Where the hell is Ryan?”

 _I don't know._ “I'll get him.” He dialed and walked away, finding a looked over place. It picked up. “Where are you?”

“I'm following them. They've got the preacher's son.”

“I figured that. Tell me where you are so I can send support.”

“No. I'm going after them alone.”

“Dad....”

“I got to get Joe. This is my chance.”

“Look, I'm sorry for what I did-”

“No, no, this is me, ending this for all of us. Take care of Claire and Max for me. Okay?”

“Dad, don't-” The call ended and his next attempt resulted in receiving the voice mail. He still moved over to a tech to see if Ryan still had his phone. The tracking system said he was stationary, that meant he lost his phone on purpose. Reporting it to Clarke made the man angry, and it wasn't directed at him, but he still felt blame on him. With nothing else for him to do, he left.

Max answered the door when he knocked. The marshals nodded to him before she opened it. “Hey.”

“Dad left,” he told her.

“To go where?” she asked, before seeing his arm. “Fuck.”

“I've had worse,” he shrugged off, feeling uncomfortable.

Claire decided to repeat Max's question. “What happened? Where's Ryan?”

“Dad went after your ex-husband,” he unfairly threw out, before calming himself down. “Joe's people attacked the college, and kidnapped Preston Tanner. And he already dumped his phone, so we can't track him.”

“That bastard!” Max hissed.

The knocking on the door alerted them to Turner opening the door. “I have Carrie Cooke outside asking for Ryan,” he reported. Mike almost walked over to deal with her himself, something along the lines of letting out some pent up anger at her. Max grabbed his arm before he could move. “What do I tell her?”

Max whispered, “Carrie broadcasted Joe's video.”

He groaned. Then, looked over at the woman in question. “Claire, I know you hate keeping secret, but would you mind going to the bedroom?” he asked calmly. The woman rolled her eyes, but went.

Max gave the okay and the woman walked in to see them but no Ryan. “I have to talk to Ryan,” she said.

“He's not here,” Max said.

“I tried calling him,” she mentioned. “I'm sorry about Joe's video. Ryan said he'd call. I got scared. I didn't know what to do, where is he?”

“He found a trail to Joe and went off on his own.”

“On his own? What are you guys doing about that?” she asked, “You can trust me. I just want to help Ryan.”

“Miss Cooke, if you want to help Ryan,” Claire suggested, having come out of the bedroom and seeing her. “Help me.”

This astounded the reporter. “Claire Matthews?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no real life or fictional (until the show) frat named Alpha Beta Omega. I am not making this up.
> 
> I think the writers know something they're not supposed to.


	13. The Reaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad feelings all around.

Ryan had no idea what was happening at his apartment. All he knew was that he finally had Joe in his sights. With a few people between him and the man he had been tracking. Small things.

Joe had something planned for the kid, and he needed to stop it before it took place. The group had gotten together to see their returning members and victim, but now he needed to hide until he could accomplish what he needed to do. He followed what looked to be the third guy down the ladder and another one as they went to get something. He didn't realize it until something turned into someone. He gulped down his anguish over hearing the cries for help and the young woman that tried to escape and failed. Ryan now had a feeling on what he was planning.

Starting to move away from the area, someone started shouting for him to stop and he turned around to see an armed guard getting closer. _This must have been the guy they were talking about._ He distracted him long enough to disarm and take him out. Then he went back to the main section.

-

“You want to do what?”

Carrie had taken Claire's appearance with little more than shock and an understanding. Then, she proposed her idea and everyone in the room stared at her. “It sounds insane, but I can lure Joe out,” she said, “I know what to say.”

Mike could not take any more of this shit. “And you want to do this on the air, in an interview,” she repeated, clearly thinking this through. _The first one to do that in a long time._

“Yeah, that's all kinds of crazy,” Max intervened.

“It'll throw him,” Claire argued, “Whatever he's doing, it'll throw him. It'll get him off his game, I'm his weakness. If he thinks I'm alive, he's gonna crack.”

Carrie diverted for a minute. “Anything on Ryan?”

“We found his phone a few miles away from the college,” Mike mentioned, “He was headed north after Joe's people and Preston Tanner, but there were seven interchanges in forty-five miles. It's a large search area.”

With that out of the way, Carrie brought out her argument. “You faked your death for a reason, Miss Matthews. You have a son to consider.”

“I'm doing this for my son.”

“No, you're doing this for yourself,” Mike muttered.

Max gave him a warning glance, but the two other women ignored him. “This is the only card I have to play. I can get to him. Put me on live. I can speak to him directly.”

“And I'm not so sure you're making a rational decision,” Carrie stated. Mike agreed, and this was probably one of the only times that he liked the woman. “This is an emotional decision, Ms. Matthews.”

“Listen, I'm going to do this with or without you. I can put it online myself if I want to,” she said. Mike needed to talk to Turner, maybe get her arrested. “Don't be foolish, Ms. Cooke, think of the sequel you can write after this is over. Joe is going to send a big message, and a lot of people are going to die, and I think you guys would want to stop it.”

“We do, but you're going about this the wrong way,” Mike argued. “Ruining all that the marshals have worked to keep you and Joey and your mother safe and you're going to throw it all away.”

Carrie stopped them before they got into a screaming argument. “Hey, let me talk to my producer,” she tried, “It would be best to do it here. I can have a small crew put together. I'll need a little time. Here's my card.”

“It'll probably be a better idea for you to contact her through me,” Mike said, “Safety issues.” Claire didn't like the intrusion, and made it known by ignoring the three. Max went back to the room and Mike walked with Carrie out. “You're not really going to do this?”

“It's insane. I'm not putting her on television. I'm not doing anything until I hear from Ryan. Keep her off the internet, take away her cell phone. She's not thinking clearly.”

“I know.”

“And find Ryan. Please.” He nodded and she left. Mike closed the door behind her and started walking to the kitchen.

Claire said, “You're wrong for wanting to stop me. I can find Joe, Mike.”

Max came back up. “I'd like to focus on finding Ryan.”

Mike's phone rang and he almost hoped it was information on his father. But the news on the other side was not it, and it was not what he wanted to hear. “Kingston Tanner heard from Joe.”

The ride over to the Tanner estate was silent and the two stayed to the back while a video of Preston's girlfriend get killed and then listening to Joe lecture the man. Mike felt sick for the man and his son and was glad it was shut off a few minutes later. Clarke then motioned them over. “How did the tape arrive?”

“One of the pastor's bodyguards found a flash drive in an envelope just outside his front gate.”

“Cyber team?” Max mentioned, “Forensics?”

“Working on it.”

Tanner walked over when he saw the three of them. “Excuse me,” he interrupted, “I know you, you're... Agent Weston. You've been part of this for a long time. You and your father.”

Okay, getting a little weird. “Sorry about your son, sir.”

“I'm sorry about your aunt and your mother. My condolences to you and your family.” He grabbed Mike's arm and Kingston started praying over him. “Dear God, please bless this man.” He looked over at Clarke for some help and the guy shook his head. “Please bring him comfort in his suffering. Please ease his pain so that he may go forth and do your bidding. Amen.” The man let go and Mike felt a little relieved to not be at the center of the man's attention. “We shall respond to Joe Carroll's message right away.”

“I don't think that's a good idea, Pastor.”

“No, no, this is a war. This is a war on my faith. Showing Joe Carroll that my faith in God is stronger than ever, that is how we will bring Preston home.”

“Engaging Carroll could mean more violence to Preston, and others,” Clarke said.

“Now, my son and I have had our differences, but he's just a boy, just a child trying to find his way and he will need the prayers of others.”

“You don't have to go on TV to pray,” Mike pointed out.

“Of course not.” _Thank you._ “I'll abide by your wishes as long as the good Lord allows.” 

The man walked off and Clarke followed him. “Uh, I feel so funky,” he quoted. Max snorted before hitting him in the arm. 

After a night at a nearby hotel and not much sleep, the two were back analyzing everything they could. Mike was looking up leads on his computer while Max pulled up the video, again. “Anything?” he asked.

“Not a lot. Forensics were inconclusive.”

“Dad?”

“Nothing.”

“Claire.”

“Still at Ryan's apartment. I blocked her internet access.” Okay, there were heading nowhere. And Mike's searches were promising nothing. “How are you doing?”

He sighed, “I suck. You?”

“Same,” she agreed. “So, the whole thing with the praying....”

“Can't we stop with that?”

“Nope. Aunt Beth just died, and I haven't seen you grieve except for the few days after her death and two hours after her funeral. So, again. How. Are. You.”

“I already told you.”

“Coffee sucks. What's really going through your head, cousin?”

This was something he didn't want to talk about, and yet people were forcing it all the time now. “All right, fine. You know, right after Dad's attack, I had to go back to DC.” She nodded. Her cousin had been devastated to be separated from his father after that, and then not allowed to visit at all for the next few months. “I was questioned about the events of the case every day for a month. And I couldn't break down. I couldn't show sadness or worry, I had to be the up most professional. I couldn't call Dad, they watched my land line and my cell. I had to hide in my closet if I wanted to cry because they put someone on my house, both to watch me and to watch out for me. There was actually a discussion about me not being allowed to go to Mom's funeral. So, it's kinda like that, only I can't break down because they'll pull me off the case and Dad would be too busy so I wouldn't be able to go to him for support or to talk. And I would be alone, again. So, I rather be here, because it's a really nice distraction rather than thinking about losing Dad after losing Mom and Aunt Beth and Troy. Okay?”

His cousin was shaking a tiny bit. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. “Just to be clear, you're not on some revenge mission to get Lily Gray? Killing her won't fix anything.”

He snorted, “You're gonna tell Dad that?”

The other computer beeped and Max got to it before Mike could even touch it. “They got something on the phone taken from Gray's hired gun.”

“And?”

“Decklan made two calls to a burner. One pinged to a cell tower near a hotel, staff confirmed two people fitting Lily and Mark's description left just after Luke's escape.”

“And the second?”

“Pinged a cell town in suburban New Jersey. Looking for property records.” 

Mike's phone went off. “It's Clarke. Yeah?” He looked over at Max. “They found a house in New Jersey. They found Lily Gray.” The two hurried and caught a ride with an agent.

HRT went in first, scouring the place. It was empty, like so many times before. Mike had really hoped she would be there. “We found a body,” Clarke informed, pulling out an old file. “She's been identified as Mandy Lang, Arkansas girl linked to Joe Carroll.”

“Wait a minute,” Max said, “If Mandy's with Joe, why is her body here with Lily?”

“There's bad blood between Lily and Joe now? Joe wasn't interested in joining her little family of psychos?” Mike figured.

“They kill Mandy to get revenge.” They were interrupted by another agent that told Clarke Lily, the twins and a merc named Duncan were there. Max pulled out her tablet and started searching the last guy. She told them about the places, Mike reading over her shoulder. One of his aliases was used to get car rentals. And they tracked the GPS.

-

Ryan screwed up.

He somehow managed to miss Joe on the stage, and set everyone scared over the compound. They were beginning some sort of evacuation and he caused it to go earlier. Unsure of his next move, daylight came quickly and he was running out of places to hide. There were still people, but there were less than there was last night. He avoided two patrols and he was sure that someone had alerted Joe to the fact he had followed him here. If he did find out about what Claire wanted to do, what Carrie now knew, how Mike and Max were holding up, he would have screamed at someone before stabbing Joe.

And one of the patrols managed to see him.

He climbed a tree, grateful for the exercise that he had been getting otherwise he would be dead by now, and dropped on the guy, getting his gun away from him. His own pointed at the guy, he asked, “Where is Joe sending his cult?”

“I'm not telling you anything.”

“Then you're useless.”

“Don't,” he repeated over. Finally, someone that wasn't ready to be killed for Joe. “Somewhere in New York. That's all I know. I swear.”

“What's the plan? What are they going to do?”

“I don't know.”

“You're lying. What is the target?”

“Only the chosen know. I wasn't chosen.”

A radio started going off and Ryan picked it out before listening in. He listened to the exchange, trying to figure out what his next play should be. Joe didn't want him dead, he wanted him brought to him. He would have his chance. He pointed the gun up into the air and shot it off to alert them to where he was. The guy he was still holding hostage yelled at him, but he ignored it as others came to march him back to the compound and Joe.

They used a few zip ties to bind him to the chair. He was actually kinda comfortable, once everyone left. It wasn't like they were forcing his arms behind his back too much. Possibly because he was a lot harder to do so with his Then, Joe came in. He immediately frowned. “Oh,” he said, “Oh, this is splendid. I've missed you, Ryan.” He was smiling at him, like he was happy.

How could someone be happy to see their enemy? “You, too, buddy.”

“Oh please, don't deflect with humor,” he waved off, “I know you've missed me, too. I take it you came alone. What a surprise, I thought Michael would have insisted on coming with you.” He analyzed Ryan's quick emotion. “You purposely left him behind.”

“How do you know I'm actually alone? The FBI might be coming right up now.”

“Oh, I doubt that. You're, you've always been the Maverick and always will. You came alone, otherwise, I would be dead.”

“You will be soon.”

“You really that determined to kill me, Ryan, after all that we've been through?” Joe inquired, “I thought you and I were a pair.”

He stared at him. What the hell was Joe playing at? “Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't dream of it,” he said, “You can even untie me. I'll be good.”

He laughed, “Funny.” It died off and he turned a bit serious. “No, You needn't trouble yourself, Ryan. I'm pretty sure that my days are numbered. No, but it does hurt to see that you can't quite see how much you need me.” _I need you like I need another hole in my heart._ “Seems you don't appreciate all I am to you.”

“Well, I promise you, once you're dead, I'll sort all of that out with therapy and being with my kid again.” Joe found that amusing. “So, what's the big finish? Sounds like you have an epic finale planned involving Kingston Tanner.”

“Yes, yes. Indeed, I have moved on from the macabre of Edgar Allen Poe and turned to an altogether more horrific piece of fiction, the Bible,” he said.

“Oh,” he nodded, “Are you sending a message to God that you're coming? Because I think you're sending it to the wrong person.”

He started laughing again. “I've missed us, Ryan.” _What us?_ “I really have missed us. You have no idea what I've planned for you, have you?”

“I know it's not about the Bible and God. You're just using religion as an excuse to glorify your nature, right? I mean, you're more interested into the psychos hall of fame, because, let's face it, what else is there for you now?”

“Infamy will insure that I live on.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” he said. “History remembers those that got away, not the ones that were identified and jailed. You're a brilliant man. Brilliant teacher, but you can't see yourself, can you? The psychopathy, the mental illness, your need to kill are overshadowed by your narcissism. It controls you, and it will end you.”

“Oh,” he scoffed off. “Real friends are able to speak the harshest of truths.”

“I'm not your friend,” he said.

“Oh yes. Yes you are, Ryan. Now, when I look at you, I see myself, and you reflect a part of me that I only see when I am in your presence. Does that sound familiar to you?” _All too well._ “You are my best friend, Ryan. Listen.” He stopped and stood up. “We're going to have to pick this up later. So much to do, so little time to do it in. I think you're really going to enjoy my next parlor trick.” He motioned to one of the members and they walked off to do something.

A couple of minutes later, someone walked in with Preston and the woman from last night. This was not something he wanted to watch. They were forced on their knees between Joe and him. A video camera was turned on. Joe tried placating Emma, who was worried about getting caught. Not that surprising. “Now, Preston,” he said, getting the young man's attention. “What is your decision?” Shit, he's trying to finish what he started last night. Forcing Preston to kill the woman. “It's a very simple choice. One of you must die. So, what will you do, my son? Will you honor your father's doctrine of 'thou shall not kill' when it really matters, or will you safe yourself and show the world that deep down, we are all savages? It's very dramatic, isn't it?” He turned to Ryan at that question.

“Or you could kill me,” Ryan offered, “Let that be the message.” The kid was terrified, and it reminded him of Mike too painfully.

“Eh, not an option.” He held his hand out and took a knife. Preston held his tongue over what he wanted to say, and his face was conflicting itself. “Preston, your answer, please.” He placed the knife against his neck, threatening him.

“Please, please don't make me do this,” he begged, “Please don't make me.”

“Joe, Joe, don't do this.”

“You just keep talking, Ryan. Now,” he said, dragging Preston up, “I can kill you, or you can kill Courtney, hmm?” He started nodding. _No, kid, don't._ The woman started crying. “What will you do, my son? Who is going to die today?”

“Preston, don't do it,” Ryan said, “Don't do it. He's not going to kill you. You're no leverage over your father if you're dead.”

“Oh, that's a decision, isn't it? Listen to the man in the chair or the man with the big knife.”

“He's pulled this before,” he tried, “He did it with Mike, my son. Mike's still alive.”

“That is a completely different set of circumstances,” Joe debated, focusing on Ryan. “I didn't know about Michael until he shouted for you. I stopped.”

“Then, what? You didn't hurt him then, but when it came to the finale, all bets were off and you tried killing him at the car,” he stated, turning back to Preston, “He needs you alive. You don't have to do this.”

“I am a different man than I was then. I can always find someone else.” He stared at Ryan. His plan could be retrofitted to another pair, if the need arose. “Do you really want to die today, Preston?

Preston was believing Joe instead of Ryan, and he really wish he wasn't. “God, forgive me,” he pleaded, taking the knife and stabbing the woman in the chest. Ryan felt himself fall at seeing the kid do that. Then, he started crying after that. 

Joe tsked at his tears and tried to act caring. “Welcome to the family,” he said.

“Go to hell,” he whispered, glaring up at him.

“One thing at a time, eh? Get this boy cleaned up.” Two of the members picked him up and dragged him away. The knife was handed off to be taken care of. The camera was turned off and Joe and Ryan were again left alone, with a body between them.

“I am gonna kill you.”

“You keep saying that, Ryan,” Joe mentioned, “And you can no more kill me than I you. Don't you get it? If I die, you die.” That's something he really didn't want to think about. Joe had been in jail, he had languished. And everyone he care for suffered. Missing Debra's birthdays, Mike's, his and Max's graduations. How would he react after he killed Joe? Would it be the same? He pulled a bench closer and sat down on it. “So, how do you think my final act is going so far?”

“Not bad. Just gotta follow it up with something big, right?” he lamented, “You going after Tanner now? What are your followers up to?”

He smiled, “Oh, you'll see, my old friend. I'm slightly concerned, though, that this may be our final moment together because you're right about one thing. My time is up.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Since, we're being intimate,” he started. _Ohdear god, please don't let us be intimate._ “Let me ask, do you miss her? I mean, how often to you think about Claire? I miss her, Ryan, I really do. She will always be my one real regret.” That was a surprising admission. “Well, I should be off. Feel like we should hug or something.”

“No, I'm good.”

He scoffed, “Well, enjoy the spectacle, and I hope you find it worthy. God forbid, you should write another book.”

One of the members that Ryan did know announced, “We got vehicles at the front gate.”

“We need to leave, now,” Emma ordered.

“The north gate is clear, but we need to leave.”

He looked over at Ryan. “What do I do with you?”

Emma glared at him. “Kill him.”

“No, no, that's not an option.” He walked over, towering over him. “Good-bye, my friend. It's been a great pleasure.”

“You will see me again, Joe, one more time, I promise.” He patted him on the cheek before leaving with the other two. It was only a few minutes after that Ryan heard gunshots ringing out. He stood up and slammed himself against the wall, breaking the chair and getting out of his restraints. It took a few minutes to completely disentangle himself from them and get outside. Korban members were lying on the ground. He spotted one of the guard ones and grabbed his gun. He ducked in time to miss a couple of shots from a mercenary and killed him, before taking out two others coming up the door.

-

Max ended up finding a livestream of Kingston talking. Mike overheard it and muttered, “Asshole.”

“I've been following the GPS on the cars that Alistair Duncan rented,” Clarke interrupted, and both of them stared at the name butchering, “And guess what, it's thirty miles north of where we found Ryan's phone.”

Oh. “Lily's not trying to get away. She's going after Joe,” Mike said. _Damn. Everyone's after him. Don't wanna be in his shoes._

“Which means Ryan's probably right in the middle of it,” Max worried.

Mike joined her then. “We gotta move.”

“All right, I got a chopper on the way.” The agents hurried out and started heading to the area.

The FBI got there too late to stop the massacre of the remaining Korban members. There was no sign of Ryan, and they were already worried about what they would find. State police was working to secure the area, and HRT helped in that regard. Mike was antsy. Lily was nearby, he could find her, shoot her for Beth. “Lily wouldn't close,” he mumbled to himself, “She would hang back.”

“What?”

“Back road, southwest perimeter.”

Max didn't like where he was going, but she spotted Ryan and ran over to hug him. “You're okay,” she said. Mike watched the two of them before walking off to find Lily.

Clarke questioned, “What do you got on Joe?”

“Took off with Emma Hill and some other followers. They mentioned a north exit. He's going after Kingston Tanner.” He took off, ordering agents to get to the north exit. Ryan looked over at Max. “He's planning something big.”

“Yeah?”

Then, he realized who was missing. “Where's Mike?”

She swore, “Shit! He's gone after Lily. He was talking about the back road at the southwest perimeter.” The two rushed over.

Mike was surprised that the woman was alone. He would have thought that a couple of mercs would have stayed behind to keep her company and watch out. Whatever. It was better for him. He knocked out the one he came across and made sure he had his gun out before announcing himself. “Hello, Lily,” he said.

“Agent Weston,” she returned, acting calmly with the tiniest bit of fear below her voice. Her hands went up in surrender.

He didn't care about surrender, or arresting her. He was going to fucking kill her. “Get on your knees. Do it!” Once she had, he checked around for anyone coming up. “Where are your sons?”

“They didn't come.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I'm unarmed, I'll go easily,” she relented, “Take me into custody.”

“So you can escape like Luke? With more causalities this time. Or do you think they'll copy Joe and kidnap one of us to get you back?” He could name all kinds of things that Lily could use to walk free. Her money's just the beginning of it.

Ryan saw the scene and shouted, “Mike!”

“Back off, Dad.”

“Don't do this, Mike,” he pleaded, getting closer. The gun was still on her, and he didn't want it going off. He had seen too much death at the moment. “Come on, you're a better person than this. You are better than me.”

That shook him. _Does Dad mean the guy last year? Because that's not...._ “Michael, you're a good man,” Lily said, “Put the gun down, take me into custody.”

_“Mike, you went from a cute kid to a handsome man, and somehow you are still good, even with our influence and everything that's happened. Don't lose that.”_

That actually made him angry, and solidified him more. “You're wrong, Lily. I used to be,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“Mike,” Max tried.

“Mike, she wouldn't want you to do this,” Ryan reasoned. Max had taken out her weapon after he motioned her to do so. He had made it around the car and was getting closer to grab him. “Mom and Beth wouldn't want you doing this. Killing people like this, it's not you. It's me. Don't be me, buddy, okay?” A couple of tears were falling down and he couldn't.... he couldn't keep it up. He kept seeing Beth's face, but hearing Mom's voice berating him and telling him to not do it. The gun fell a small amount and Ryan plucked it out of his hand instantly. “Okay, buddy. It's okay, buddy.” He wrapped his other arm around Mike and moved him back slowly.

“Get up,” Max ordered, gun pointed at her. Ryan kept Mike's and used it to also urge her up and forward. They don't know what happened, but something flashed in Lily's hand and the two with guns shot out. Along with a third.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claire, the group doesn't like you. Knock it off.


	14. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe goes to church.
> 
> He's not praying.

Their gunshots had alerted HRT to find the three of them, having all shot at Lily. Including Mike, who held a secondary service weapon. The three were escorted back to the compound and into what looked to be a lecture hall of sorts. With all the state police running around, a detective insisted on asking them questions about Lily's death, Clarke listening in. “We had her apprehended, and were starting to bring her back,” Ryan repeated, again, “Something flashed in her hand. Knowing Gray's nature, we felt it necessary to shoot and not give her a chance to hurt anyone.”

“Agent Weston, is this what you saw?” he inquired, holding out what happened to be a small gun, perfectly made to slip up someone's sleeve or in a pocket and get away undetected.

“I believe so,” he said.

“And, Detective Hardy, you were behind Gray while Agent Weston and Mister Hardy were in front?”

“Yep,” she said.

“You came up with Mister Hardy. Why did Mister Hardy circle in front to join Agent Weston?” he questioned.

Clarke stopped it. “You can contact them through my office, Detective, if you need anything further.” The man walked off and Ryan moved away from Mike and Max. “Well, we found a storage room filled with weapons and explosives. It's half-empty, so where the hell are they headed?”

“Dispatched at least forty members just before he left, made it clear he was planning something big. Tanner's the target.”

He checked before telling him the next piece. “Ryan, there's something you need to know about Claire.” He looked over. “She talked to Carrie Cooke.”

“What?”

“She gave Cooke a message to give to Joe through her news show.”

“What kind of message?”

“A poem of some kind. Supposed to mean something to Joe. That's all she would say, so, you need to talk to Clare. Apparently, she hasn't been winning any favors from Max or Mike.” He walked off to direct a few resources.

Ryan saw Mike standing around. Max had left his side. “Hey, are you tired?” he asked, “You look tired. You wanna go back to the apartment or home, get some rest?”

“Nice try, Ryan. I'm not going anywhere.”

 _Damn it, Mike._ “I know I have no right to tell you what you should and shouldn't do-”

“You're right. You don't,” he interrupted, “It would be fucking hypocritical if you did, especially since that's your plan with Joe Carroll.”

He frowned. “You're better than me, Mike. You shouldn't be like me.” Mike still didn't get that and it confused him.

They all ended up back in New York, trying to figure out Joe's next move. Ryan had to talk to Claire. Max went the only way she knew how. Having no appetite herself, she made Mike a sandwich and sat it down next to him. “Not hungry,” he mumbled, focused on Cooke's clip from the previous night.

She carefully bumped him. “When was the last time you had something to eat?” she asked.

“This morning,” he admitted. She poked him again. He sighed and rolled his eyes before grabbing a butter knife and cutting it in half. She stared when he offered half. “Same for you. If I gotta eat, so do you.”

Ryan closed the door before turning to Claire. “Are you trying to get yourself and Carrie killed?” he asked, facing her.

“Carrie, no, Carrie was just doing her job,” she said.

“You put her in jeopardy. Joe has 'reached out' to her several times. If he thought she was hiding from him, then he would attack her and anyone around her.”

“Look,” she stated, “I'm sorry, okay, but you disappeared on me and-”

“Please, Claire, you have got to go home for me,” he stopped.

“Ryan, I-”

“You have to trust me! Okay, the marshals are waiting to take you, and when this is over, I'll find you. I promise.” He means it, but right now, she's in too much danger around him. “I gotta go now.” He almost walked out when he looked at her, depressed and let down. With what might be his last time seeing her, he walked over and hugged her tightly. After a minute of feeling her, holding her...

Te kissed her.

It was close to as he remembered, and he felt a year of emotions close to flowing through him and into her. After that, he reluctantly separated and got ready to leave. Mike was eating half a sandwich with Max and he waited for them to finish before snatching them up and heading out.

Kingston Tanner was anxious to see Ryan, especially after he heard that the man had been on the campground and had talked to Joe. “You saw m-my son? He was alive?” he inquired, speechless.

“Yeah, he is. Joe took him.” He left out the part about Joe forcing him to kill. Ryan knew he wouldn't want to hear that.

“Was, was he hurt?”

“He was scared, but holding up under the circumstances,” he informed.

“Those circumstances were...” He waited for an answer.

Clarke gratefully picked it up. “You may be a target as well, Mister Tanner,” he said, “So, I've assigned agents for your protection.”

“No, my personal security detail's more than sufficient to protect me and my family. Thank you.”

Ryan thought there was something there. “Joe told me he was going to create a spectacle. You need to stay here, at home with your wife,” he instructed.

“You should also get the people out front to leave,” Mike suggested, “It's likely Joe would plant someone in the crowd.”

“Those people out front are members of my church,” he protested, “They've come to pray with me. I cannot ask them to leave.”

“I can,” Ryan said, “Keep making a show of this and you will die. Do you understand me?”

“Do you value faith, Mister Hardy? Do you believe in God?”

 _Nope. That was Debra's thing._ “I believe in smarts, and you need to start acting like you have some.” The man was saved from more Ryan Hardy berating when the phone said he had an unknown caller.

“If you'll excuse me.” He walked into an empty room to answer. 

Ryan turned to his relatives. “Fishy?”

“Fishy,” Max and Mike chorused. 

Outside, there was a general feeling of deja vu pushing at his brain, and Mike choose to ignore it. Joe probably wouldn't send another Annabel Lee to give Ryan cryptic messages. “These people believe praying will bring back Tanner's son unharmed,” he muttered, “Stupid.”

“Yeah, well, they're doing what they think will help,” Max defended.

Mike looked over Ryan's shoulder and felt an eerie vibe from one of the people standing at the gate. _Another Annabel Lee. Damn it, I cursed myself._ Before he could say anything, the woman started pouring something over her. “Praise Joe!” she shouted, taking a candle from someone standing near her and lighting herself up. It was going quickly and they figured she had doused herself in gasoline.

Mike and Max handled crowd control, a couple of others bring out fire extinguishers to put the woman out. During all the chaos, Ryan got a nasty thought and after they were done, rushed back in to find that Tanner had left. “Where's Tanner?” he asked the head of security.

“He's gone.”

“Your job is to protect him, not lose him.”

“We didn't lose anyone. He asked us to stand down, he left out the back,” the guard stated.

“And you're telling me you have no idea where he went?”

“Pastor Tanner is my employer. He gives the orders. He tells him to let him go, I let him go.”

“He took a phone call earlier, who was it?” he demanded.

“I don't know anything about that.”

“Bullshit, you're lying. It was Joe Carroll. You know exactly what is going on. There is no way you would let him walk out of here.” He looked over at Mike, who was a little amused seeing him go off on this guy. Then, he saw Max and it connected in his mind. “Unless you had a plan to follow him.”

Mike said, “You saw what happened outside. Joe Carroll has more followers just like that. They will kill Tanner, they will kill his son, who knows who else.”

“You don't tell us where they are and more people die, the FBI will nail you to the wall,” Clarke threatened.

“I put a tracker on Mister Tanner,” he relented, “He doesn't know it, but I had to do something.” He brought up a map with a blinking dot on it and handed the tablet to Max. She looked down and ran off with it, planning. They were immediately sent off, Max staying behind with Clarke to follow what was going on.

“Made a left on second. Where are they headed, Max?”

“Pulling up a grid and finding, finding. Got lots of targets, restaurants, schools.”

Mike shook his head. “Not those,” he muttered.

“Ryan, we got NYPD and a SWAT team approaching from the opposite side.”

“Let us get eyes on the followers first,” he said.

“Assess and let me know. We're ready.”

Within a few minutes, they had an answer. “Tanner's stopped. He's at fiftieth and third.”

“What's there, Max?”

She looked up the address and froze. “Blessed Saints Cathedral.”

Mike looked over at Ryan. “Okay, that's not good.”

“Get NYPD and SWAT there. Now.” He heard Clarke yelling at his agents on the other end before hanging up and hurrying over to the church. Once there, the two saw a young woman acting as guard to prevent people from going in. NYPD officers were trying to talk her down, but she actually seemed to be happy about what she was about to do, committing suicide in front of a growing crowd. Mike identified himself as they rush up to try and get in, then seeing that they're too late to prevent. He then informed the man checking on the woman of arriving SWAT and other FBI agents, and started getting him to get the crowd under control and away from the building.

Ryan started moved away and he walked with him. “What are you doing?”

“I need to get inside.”

“SWAT's on their way,” he said.

“I hear 'em.” He was checking doors and cursing the prep to get all of them locked. “You stay here, tell them I went in.”

“Nice try, Dad” he said, not amused with his father. “Come on.” Mike ran ahead to start trying areas himself. With everything on the ground secured, they figured on going across roofs to get to an open window. The two just made it in when they heard someone coming down the hall. Ryan hurried Mike first, getting out his gun and hiding around another corner. 

He heard someone almost walking over their way, when another guy said, “Trip wire's set. Let's go.” The footsteps went away and they peered around the corner to see gas cans where they had just come in. Ryan led the way down to the main area. The followers had gathered the churchgoers into a single area, surrounding them with barrels and gas cans.

“I don't see Joe,” Mike whispered, trying to spot the man like a horror version of Where's Waldo.

“We gotta get closer,” Ryan agreed. His cell phone started going off and he saw it was Max. “We're in.”

“You're what?!” she hissed.

“Yeah, Mike and I got in before they locked it down.”

She sighed, then informed, “Hostage rescue is ready to come in, but they cut the CCTV. We can't see anything out here.”

“I'll try to get it back on, but tell Clarke no moves. They wired the place, gonna see what kind of explosives they have. Get ATF ready.” He finished and Mike looked over at him. It startled him to see his kid older than he thought possible. “Let's go.” They left the main area and searched for the room where security would be likely set up. Ryan was first one in, finding a body on the floor. “Church employee.”

Mike barely gave it a second thought before moving to the computers. “Keep an eye on the door,” he said, accessing the camera feeds, “I'm gonna get the system back online.” He worked a few minutes to get the cameras back up, but he was distracted from getting the feed out by what he was seeing on the monitors. He wasn't paying attention to the spectacle, instead trying to identify what they had brought. “Dad, what are those?” he asked, getting his attention. “Gas, nitrogen?”

He wasn't sure, the camera's not enough to read the labels. “Clarke said he found a stockpile of explosives at the compound.”

“They mean business.”

Ryan wanted to know what was going on. “Is there sound?” Mike pressed a couple of buttons to enable speakers. The two of them watched Joe force the other father and son decide their deaths. Kingston was speaking, and Ryan knew what he had been preparing himself to do when he killed himself with the knife. Preston started screaming for help, but the wound and how much blood was coming out. He laid a hand on Mike's shoulder and felt a slight shakiness coming from him. It hit too close to home.

He called Max once Mike was able to get the CCTV out of the cathedral. “Okay, we've got a live feed,” she said.

“There's a west entrance at the sanctuary and a side entrance at the north side.”

“How many explosives?” Clarke questioned.

“Hard to tell. We'll take a look. Don't storm in now. They have the doors trip wired.” He ended it.

Mike had calmed down and solidified himself during his call. “Forget the exploratory. We can end this now. We go in, I cover, you take the shot at Joe no matter what,” he suggested.

Ryan smacked him upside the head. “And they trigger the canisters, killing everyone,” he berated, “You need to stop. This isn't you, Michael.”

He did not like being told that again. “All right, fine, we'll do it your way,” he mocked.

The older man had to grab him, stop him. “Don't be this person. Don't be me, it will not end well for you,” he warned. Something inside of him wanted to tell him about the overdose, what he did, to warn him. Even if he would lose him, he wanted to warn him. Mike didn't take it, but didn't say anything against it. The two separated. 

Mike was going along the wall, trying to be careful in not being spotted. He headed across an open area and was shot at. He tried shooting back, but the guy was out of range before he could. _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._ He managed to find an entrance to the floor. “Whoever's here, you should reveal yourself,” Joe ordered, “Or people are going to start to die. We'll start....” A chorus of people started screaming and Mike heard the kid crying louder. “With the preacher's son! If you don't show yourselves within five seconds, I'm going to put a bullet through his brain.” _Damn it._ He had to show himself. He was stupid, and he didn't want people dying because of him. “Five, four, three, two, one!”

“Don't hurt him!” Mike yelled, getting his attention. Joe had to look over to see his 'best friend's' son walking out. “Don't hurt him.” A member was instantly on him, keeping away with an assault rifle. “Kill me instead.”

“Drop it,” the member demanded. Mike carefully placed the gun down. The guy grabbed him and shoved him forward.

“Michael,” he said, almost too happy. “What a wonderful surprise.” A couple of other members herded him to a spot directly in front of the camera. “Your father can't be far behind. Where is he, Michael? How many others are with you?”

“He's outside. It's just me,” he lied.

Joe gave him an amused look. “Oh, that can't be right. Ryan wouldn't let you out of his sight.”

“Haven't heard? I'm starting to act like him now. I left him behind this time,” he quipped, a tight smile finishing it off.

The man knew better. He laughed at his little story. “Come on out, Ryan, you don't want another sacrificial lamb on the altar of your conscious. Especially this one.”

Mike shouted, “Kill him, Ryan! Don't worry about me.”

“Yes. It is just you and he alone. Such mavericks, you two,” he joked, “I'd like nothing more than for you to witness your son's death, Ryan.”

Ryan, who had been hiding upstairs in the hallways, heard his son offer himself up to Joe. _No. No. No. No._ He found a space that no one could see him from and saw Mike standing in front of the camera, Joe and others pointing guns at him. His instinct was to give himself up, stop Joe from hurting him. Joe said he stopped from killing Mike. He wondered about the chapter ending and wondered if the man was always meant to miss. Could he risk it twice?

Mike glared at the man, wanting to do what his father would not and kill him. “Are you watching?” he inquired. Joe switched hands and punched him in the chest, driving Mike to his knees in pain. He moved in front of him and pointed the gun closer, at his head.

“Go ahead, kill me, and then he'll kill you,” he gasped. “Kill him, Dad! Do it, just kill him!” _Fuck, just do it for Mom._

“You see, Ryan, we are so alike. We both have acolytes that are willing to give up their lives for us,” he taunted, “Oh, come on, Ryan. Come out, let's, let's resolve this in front of the entire world.”

“Yeah, because that's really going to help,” Mike lamented, “Dad's never been a fan of cameras.”

Joe nudged Mike with his boot, getting his attention and shutting him up. “You've had a heck of a rough time, haven't you? First Debra, your mother, then your Aunt Beth. I am sorry for those losses,” he said. _How the hell are you sorry for my Mother's when you're the reason for it?_ “It was Beth's carotid artery, was it?” That made him angry, talking about Aunt Beth. He rushed him and got whipped for his effort. He cried out in pain, falling back. One of the followers grabbed his collar and kept him up until he stopped swaying. Mike checked the area of impact. _No new wounds. Good._ “Mikey is gonna die, Ryan! In three, two, one.”

Mike closed his eyes, preparing for the bullet.


	15. Forgive

Joe, at the last bloody second, switched and shot Preston in the head, effectively stopping his infernal sobbing. “No!” Mike shouted, “No!” That wasn't supposed to happen. The kid wasn't supposed to die, that was the whole point of giving himself up.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized, pointing the gun back at him, “I was just so tired of his crying. I couldn't hear myself think.”

“Dad, kill him!” he yelled, getting to the point of pleading, “Just kill him!” _Why won't Dad just kill him? That was his whole fucking mission this past year. Getting himself ready to find Joe and kill him. Why won't he do it? That kid was too fucking young._ He knew that kid's pain, felt it more than he wanted to. His heavy breathing wasn't doing well enough to calm himself down and he had to mentally pull himself away to focus on getting out alive.

Ryan had been watching, jumping when he saw Joe hit him to drive him down. He let out a sigh of relief in seeing that Mike hadn't been shot, feeling the slightest twinge for the Tanner kid. He was also relieved that he was right in Joe not killing Mike. _He won't kill him. Mike's safe. He probably won't ever kill him. Nothing about his 'acolytes' but he won't..._ That kept repeating over and over in his head, until he heard the topic change.

“Yes, come on, Ryan. Come on, kill me,” he said, “And you can have Claire all to yourself. Yeah, I know she's alive. I heard the poem, and if you're here, is she up at the Inn all on her lonesome?” _Claire?_ Damn it! If he thought what Joe was thinking, then the woman escaped protection and apparently went up to some sort of romantic place that the two of them shared. “Oh, ho, ho, have you spoken to her today, Ryan? Is she safe?”

_What the hell did Joe plan?_ His mind raced through the fact that he hadn't seen Emma Hill or another known as Robert, and figured they must have been sent to acquire or kill her. _Joe would want her alive, but Emma would want her dead._ His phone rang and someone picked up.

“Hello?” That wasn't Emma. _Fuck._ “So glad to hear from you, Ryan. It's Luke,” he said, identifying himself.

“Where's Claire?” he asked.

“Oh, good news, she's here. Apparently, Joe sent Emma and some guy to meet her, but we intervened,” he informed.

“If you hurt her-”

“Save your breath, I can guess the next part,” he interrupted, “Here's what you need to do. I want you to bring Joe Carroll to me, alive. You do that, and you get a living Claire in return.”

“Your time is up, Ryan,” Joe called out, “What will it be?”

“I can't do it, Luke, it's impossible,” Ryan said.

“You're the big, bad Ryan Hardy. You can do anything. Claire's counting on it. Looks like Mikey is too. Because if you don't, I'm going to cut off her face and wear it for Halloween.”

Joe was getting angry. “Someone needs to find him,” he growled.

“They're looking,” Tilda said, “Just kill him already.”

“She's right, Joe,” Mike tried taunting, “Just do it.”

“Let me talk to Claire,” Ryan insisted.

“Bring me Joe Carroll,” Luke stated.

“Does he have to be alive?”

Luke huffed, “Yes. Ryan. Alive. Do not kill him. You'll receive a text. It will tell you exactly what to do. You and Joe, no one else, or Claire dies, horribly.” He hung up on him and Ryan was left trying to figure out what to do.

Joe was frustrated and really wanted to shoot someone. “Damn it to hell,” he cursed, “Will someone please find Ryan bloody Hardy?!” Mike was curling in on himself and waiting for that final bullet. He was a lot calmer now, even though it was packaging and bottling them to explode later.

Ryan needed to make an entrance for HRT and SWAT, but also needed an exit for them. He knocked out another guard and disabled one of the trip wires before finding keys and undoing the chains. Now that HRT had a way in, he needed a way out.

-

Max couldn't believe her relatives.

Mike had allowed himself to get captured by Joe, to try and spare Preston Tanner, who was then shot five minutes later. The older man still held a gun to her cousin's head and she really wondered where her uncle was and why the hell hadn't he done anything yet. Clarke and HRT leader were arguing about heading in. One wanted to go, the other warned that the building was rigged to explode.

Her phone went off and she was grateful to see Ryan's name flash up. “Where the fuck are you? Joe's got _my_ cousin hostage,” she demanded.

“Something else is happening,” he said, “I need your help. Can you pull up the city's plans on this church?”

“Yeah, okay, I'm on it.” She moved over to her tablet and searched for the blueprints to the building. “What are you doing, uncle of mine?”

“I'm giving HRT access, but you got to do exactly as I say.”

“City plans are on their way to you now,” she stated, “What's next?” After following his orders, which at one point Max wanted to scream at him for, she ended the call. “Hey, Ryan's disabling the trip wires on the doors on the south and west entrances,” she told Clarke and HRT, “Get your teams in place, he's gonna need you to kill the lights, all right, but it's crucial you wait for his signal before sending them in.” When Ryan showed up on the cameras, she quickly left while they were distracted.

-

Joe had knelt beside Mike. There was trouble finding Ryan, and he was curious about the boy. He was a little tougher than he was last year. Oh, he seemed tough when he had him hostage, getting the information out of Ryan about the 'overdose' of the man that killed his father, but he was still naïve and young, calling out for his father when he started choking him. Now, he seemed ready to receive a bullet, talked back like his father. Oh, the stories he's heard around him. He wondered if Lily did die by his hand, that it was his bullet that gave the final blow. It would almost truly be 'like father, like son.' The younger man had been staring at the ground, but turned to him when he felt him. “What happened to you, Mikey?” he inquired, “You look different. What happened to that boyish charm? I get under your skin? Because I'm thinking you're looking like a kind of Mini-Ryan. Heh, appropriate, though.”

His face was completely still as he gazed back at him. “You're not as smart as you claim,” he ventured, “Or is this like listening to Dad talk about the druggie killing his Dad? You know the answers, you just want to put us through the pain again.” Joe studied him a bit. _That was a surprisingly bright answer._ “You killed my Mother, my Aunt's dead. You've brought nothing but death to our family.”

“No, no, no, I am not responsible for Beth's death,” he disputed, “That, that is all you.”

“You started the chain reaction. Lily wouldn't have gone after her if you hadn't scorned her,” he said. “You and Emma, and Mandy.” Joe whipped him again. Mike groaned and felt a little bit of blood coming out of his nose, but he couldn't dwell on it as he was forced into position again.

“Do not mention Mandy's name again,” he growled. He stood up. “I am bored of this. Ryan, I am going to kill him now!” He placed the gun at the base of his skull and flipped the safety off.

Ryan chose the exactly right moment. “Joe!” he shouted, stepping out from the little hide way. Every single gun except for Joe's pointed at him, his still on Mike. He just hoped his theory stayed in place. “You don't have to do that. I'm right here.”

Mike dropped his head. “Finally,” Joe said. He didn't move closer, not with all the guns. “It's okay. Let him through.” _Damn it, Dad, why?_ The other man walked his way around pews, wary of the gun still on Mike. “No sudden moves, Ryan. One false move, and your son joins his Mother.” He realized he was on camera, and forgot to inform Max, and Clarke, and HRT, about this part.

“Show's over,” he said, knocking the camera out of her hands and smashing it to pieces. The woman holding the camera became angry and he punched her.

All the other members instantly readied their weapons, Joe the only one not switching. “It's okay,” he said, trying to coax them down. “She's okay.”

Mike looked up at his father. “Dad, what are you doing?” he mouthed, wondering what the hell was going on.

He held off, whispering, “You okay?” Mike nodded, not looking very reassuring.

“You shouldn't have done that, Ryan,” he warned. Tilda brought out another gun and the one on Mike nudged him a little.

Ryan brought his attention back up to Joe. “Lily's twins have Claire,” he muttered, “They're gonna kill her if I don't take you to them.”

He shook his head. “You're lying.”

The other man brought up the photo that they sent. “We've got ten seconds before HRT takes the church. You will die, but I can get you out of here, and we can save her, but you got to drop that gun now,” he informed.

Nope, still not buying it, and the gun wasn't coming off Mike. “What kind of trick are you playing at? I sent Emma to get Claire.”

“Obviously, that didn't work,” he commented, “The twins have her. Time's up. Put the gun down, Joe. Tell your people to back off. I know a way out of here, but you gotta cooperate.”

It was a hard choice. He couldn't tell if this was a ploy, to just get him separated away to kill him. In the end, Joe decided to play along with Ryan, removing the gun from Mike's head and dropping it. Ryan counted down the seconds before the power went out. He ushered Mike up, squeezing his arm in a hopefully reassuring manner before moving him in the front and keeping Joe between them. Stopping in a somehow lit kitchen, Joe was asking about a disguise of some sort to make a clean getaway.

Ryan punched him.

He felt good after that. Several emotions that he had bottled up flew away when he did that. Mike smiled while he passed him a towel for him to cover up. “There's your disguise,” he said. They finished getting out, Mike placating two NYPD officers stationed at the exit. The officers immediately took the way in, and Max showed up perfectly.

“I got you a car, disabled GPS,” she said, “You won't be tracked, are you sure about this?”

“I'm not sure about anything,” he admitted.

“Give me your phone,” she requested, “Here's a disposable. I programmed the number in there. We'll be using one, too.” Ryan got the man into the back and asked for handcuffs. “Clarke is figuring this out right now. You need to leave.”

“Is this strictly necessary, Ryan?”

“Ask me that again when you haven't threaten my kid for a few days,” he grumbled, shutting the door and turning to Max. “Luke texted me the address, it's on my phone.”

“We'll follow as soon as we're out of here without being spotted,” Mike said.

Max was jittery, and muttered, “I love you” before hugging her uncle.

“I love you, too,” he whispered. Once she let go, he pulled Mike for a quick hug as well. “I love you, too, Mikey. Okay?”

“Dad... Love you, too,” he mumbled, holding for a couple of seconds before letting him go. Ryan got in the car and drove off while Mike and Max headed back to the chaos. Clarke was dealing with the hostages, which gave them a few minutes to keep hidden from the NYPD and the FBI. “I disabled the GPS so they can't follow us.”

“Ryan should be out of the city by now.”

“Once we clear the checkpoints, we shouldn't be far behind.”

Max looked over at her cousin. She hadn't been able to ask when they came out, but alone. “Are you okay?” she inquired, “Sure you're up for this?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you almost died.”

“Wasn't the first time, Max,” he muttered, “I'm fine enough. We need to leave, Clarke's going to be looking for us.” He started driving while Max brought up the disposable on her tablet. They had been driving to the place Luke texted. She was trying to find it on maps. “There's nothing here.”

“We'll find it.”

She had also been attempting to contact Ryan with an update. “Damn it, Ryan, answer your phone.”

“Don't worry,” Mike said, “Dad's gonna be fine.”

“You say that with such confidence, Mike.”

“I know Dad. He's.... resourceful. He'll be able to get out,” he tried convincing. After a few minutes of quiet, they ended up passing by a violent car crash, along with a body. Mike didn't recognize him. “That was their car.”

Max was worried. “Faster, now. We need to get to Ryan.” He started speeding faster to where they needed to go.

-

Ryan already knew that he was screwed. He just didn't want proof.

Getting Claire was a trick. The boys wanted him and Joe. Not surprising. Once they started waking up, Luke brought Claire out, throwing her into a chair. Mark wasn't around, but he came in quickly with something and dropped it on the table before facing his brother. Luke taunted Joe with Emma apparently being dead. The man blamed them, until they both looked over at Claire. _Oh God._ He didn't doubt it was self-defense, there was no way the blood came from fighting the twins.

Luke offered Ryan a drink. “No,” he said.

“He's not supposed to drink,” Mark mentioned, “He's sober. You may not remember this, but we've met before. When we were planning this all out with Mother, I used to come to your morning meetings and watch you. I even introduced myself to you as a newcomer. You shook my hand.”

“Good for you, Ryan,” Joe interjected, “It takes a lot of courage to face your demons.” Luke hit him in the back of the head. When they brought back up, he still said no, until they threatened Claire. Then, there was alcohol being poured down his throat and spilled over his head when it was going too fast. They moved onto Joe. He tried persuading them, but they were probably some of the only ones that didn't listen to his calming voice. Instead, they had him humble himself,

Then, they turned back to him. They believed he killed Lily. _Shit._ He was glad in a way that they didn't know Mike was the one to do it, and he was glad that somehow it was only his name that came out of it and not Max's or Mike's. They asked if he executed her. “Yeah, I did. Now let her go and I'll accept my punishment.”

“This is our dinner!”

“We were so wrong about you,” Mark said, “You were supposed to be the good guy, the hero. It's against the law.”

“You had no right to kill our mother!” Luke interrupted.

“Oh, exactly,” Joe said, “Do you have any idea how many people Ryan has killed? Far more than me, and that's the simple truth.” Ryan hated himself for a moment.

Luke hissed, “Shut up.”

Mark went on. “It's the height of irony. You've become the man you hate. You're no better than the killers you hunt.”

Joe lightly laughed, “He even has a cult of his own vigilantes. His son, Michael. Become quite violent.”

“He's got a good point, Ryan,” Luke said, “Mike nearly killed me. Whose fault's that? He was following your example. You corrupted him.”

_I didn't._ “Yes. He's even infected that lovely niece of his, Max. Ruined her career, that's for sur-” Luke looked over at him. “So sorry, won't happen again.”

“You're supposed to be the good guy, right?” Mark asked.

He shook his head. “I'm not good. I know that.”

“Oh, finally, he admits it,” Joe noted.

“What happened to you?” Mark inquired.

“Well, he gave in to that most base of human emotions, revenge. Just like you boys,” Joe informed.

“What?” He had their intentions now. Joe looked over at Ryan for a brief second. “I know your secret. Yes, Ryan, do you remember? Should I tell them?”

“You finally have something interesting to add?” Luke said, “Talk.”

“Well, when Ryan was seventeen, his father was killed, and Ryan, ever the detective, tracked down the perpetrator and murdered him, and he's been seeking redemption ever since. Which is why he's probably so fixated on me.”

_How does he know? How did he find out? I never told Debra, never told anyone about that._ “Is that true?” Mark inquired.

Unfortunately, he had to answer. “Yes.”

Claire was shocked, Joe was smug. “Tell me more.” _What, that isn't enough? You want me to relive the worst decision of my life?_ He pointed his gun at Claire. “Why do you seek redemption?”

“I need to be forgiven,” he said, unsure of what exactly was coming out, “But you can't be forgiven, not for that. It's always there, never goes away. Who will forgive me? God? God forgives? There is no God. I am not the good guy.”

“But you try to be.”

“And I fail!” he shouted.

“Ryan,” Claire stopped.

He tried calming down, but it wasn't working. Mark came over and knelt beside him. “You're a remarkable man,” he commented. Ryan thought he was nuts, but then, the kids had been raised alongside murderers and their mother. “We're going to let you live.”

“But you still need to be punished,” Luke said, “So we're gonna kill Max and Mike, and you're gonna have to suffer knowing that they all died because of you. It's fitting, isn't it? And we're gonna start by killing Claire.”

“No!”

“I'm gonna blow her brains out right in front of you.”

The shooting started, however, outside, as someone managed to take a good chunk of Luke's arm out, then continued shooting to keep them away from the hostages. In the chaos, Joe got loose, Claire was taken and Mark ran off. Mike and Max came through the window they had shot out. “Go for Ryan,” Mike ordered, going after Mark. Max got him out of the chair, handing him a back up weapon. She left after Mike and Ryan went after Joe.

Mike was searching an upper hallway. He didn't hear anything, and was surprised by Mark. His gun dropped and he struggled to fight back, but Mark wasn't as angry as he was and he slammed his fist into him a few times. On the ground, Mike got his gun and stood over him. “You must really want me dead,” he said.

“You killed my Aunt,” Mike muttered, “I didn't think twice before shooting your mother.”

Mark looked up at him. “No, no, Ryan killed my Mother.”

“Not true. You really think Ryan would tell you the truth that I did it? How I had her on the ground? She pulled out her weapon, all three of us shot her, but it was my bullet.” Now, he was going to kill the other person involved.

Something slammed on his head and he collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground. Mark got up when he saw his brother standing over him with a two by four. “He did it, Luke,” he told, “He did it. He killed Mom.” That enraged him, and he was about to slam it down on the fallen agent again before something hit him. He looked up to see Max Hardy standing at the end of the hallway. He had been shot, and she shot him again. Mark picked up his gun and fired back, making Max duck behind the door frame. She started down again when she didn't hear another shot.

The room was now clean of Grays, but she was more worried about her cousin on the floor. “Mike,” she tried, checking him, “Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike. You're okay, dumbass, come on. If you don't get up, I'm finding the rest of your Power Rangers and destroying them.”

“No, you're not,” he slightly slurred, but opened his eyes and groaned at the killer headache he was forming. “Why didn't you go after Mark?”

“And leave you vulnerable? No way in hell. Come on,” she said, pulling on him and getting him to his feet. They got his gun and started going after Mark. He had disappeared, with Luke's body. The two then decided to go back and see how Ryan was doing.

They found him holding a gun on Joe. Claire was off to the side, relatively unharmed. Max instantly pointed at him, and so did Mike when he saw. Joe was telling Ryan to shoot him. Ryan looked uneasy about the idea. Both Max and Mike were thinking that something was wrong. The man looked up at them, and saw something he didn't like in them. He saw something inside of himself he didn't like. Joe offering himself, becoming the next mass murderer. “Call Clarke. Arrest him.” Confused, Mike called the agent in while Max and Ryan directed him to a room, tying him down so he couldn't escape.

It didn't take long for the FBI to descend. Clarke was pissed. “You should have included me.”

“They had Claire, threatened to kill her if I brought anyone with me,” Ryan mentioned.

“Anything on Mark?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, we're canvassing the area now, but there's no sign of him or Luke's body anywhere.”

Ryan watched his son carefully. “Hey, Luke is dead. Lily is dead. So is the rest of their family. We'll find Mark.” Mike shook his head. It was something he would have to discuss in private, away from Clarke. Instead, the two of them saw Joe being fully arrested for the third and hopefully final time. Ryan walked out of the house, hoping to find Claire. 

Mike followed. “Hey, Dad,” he started, “Why didn't you kill him? That was your goal since you found out him being alive.”

“Because, this needs to end,” Ryan said, “I don't like what it did to me, and I didn't realize it until someone shoved it into my face. Now, I see it in you and Max, and I don't want you two becoming the person I am. The whole point about being agents is that the bad guy is arrested, and sent to jail. Not that we get to kill them because they did something.” Mike felt shame over that. He didn't think like that. “Now, would you go and make sure nothing's wrong with your head? Max told me about the hit.”

“I've already-” he lied, before his father caught him and stared. “Fine.” Ryan walked off to talk to Claire, but Mike went over to Max. “You ratted me out.”

“Yeah? So what if I did?” she said, “Now, go get checked out.”

“I don't need to, I've had worse. It's not- ow,” he whined, his cousin pulling on his ear to get him over to an ambulance.

“He was hit with a piece of lumber and unconscious for a few minutes,” she informed to the EMT. The man forced him to sit while they checked response times. The wound was the only thing, and they didn't see any sign of a concussion, but told them to be cautious. They knew about his previous hits from Joe and with the wood hit, he might be slightly disoriented later on.

Max had peeked around the door to check on Ryan, seeing him talk to Claire. She didn't get what was going on until Ryan looked crestfallen. “Oh, come on,” she quietly exclaimed.

“What?”

“I think Claire just broke up with Ryan,” she informed.

“What?!” he joined in, “That fucking....”

“Watch it,” Max warned.

“She knew Dad still cared, or in love, whatever it was,” he said, “Why the hell did she turn him down after all this?”

“No clue.” She watched him stay in a spot until she left with the marshals. He then walked over to a car. “I think Ryan's trying to make an unnoticed getaway.”

With new butterfly stitches in place, Mike said, “Well, that's not going to happen. I should be watched for a concussion tonight. Shouldn't I?”

She smirked, “You should. Although, the concussion wouldn't hurt anything.”

It took him a second to figure that out. “Max!” She walked over to the car while Mike had to hurry a little to catch up. Grabbing the front, she slid in before Ryan started the car. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Mike got in the back. “What are you two doing?”

“I need to be watch for a concussion,” he informed, “Apparently, getting hit by Joe a couple of times, then by slugger Luke is a bad thing for my head.”

“Like that's the worst thing to happen to your head,” Max shot back.

They started squabbling and Ryan was getting annoyed at the two of them. “Knock it off!” he yelled, stopping their little feud. Max turned and smiled at her cousin, who smirked back. He caught the two of them. “You're doing this purposely.”

Mike straightened out. “Dad, I have no clue what you're talking about.” Then he cracked up because he couldn't hold back. Ryan shook his head, but he couldn't help smiling at their antics.

-

_He had been asleep, switching sides when his hands instinctively moved out and felt something liquid-y on the bed beside him. Opening his eyes, Ryan saw Luke with a bullet in his head and blood spilling on the sheets. Worried about Max and Mike, he started getting up when he saw Mark hovering above him. He said something to him, but he was more occupied by the weapon coming at him._

“Dad.”

Ryan almost struck out at the figure standing besides his bed. Mike simply blocked the hit instead of grabbing him. It took him a few seconds to completely shake off the dream. “Mike,” he muttered.

“I heard you starting to freak out,” he explained, “Max is still asleep. What was it?”

He shook his head. “Doesn't matter.”

“You wouldn't allow me to get away with the same answer. Spill.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Spill? I think that's more Max's line than yours.” Mike sat on the other side of him and stared until he got an answer. “Luke and Mark, happy?”

He shrugged. “Kinda figured it was that or Joe.”

“Yeah.” Joe might become less and less of a problem than Mark. “I never asked. Why weren't you happy about the information on Mark? He's probably going to be grieving for a while. Maybe forever?” That was designed to get a smile, but it didn't work. “Mike?”

“I thought I was going to be able to kill him,” he said. Ryan figured he meant more that he wouldn't be interrupted instead of backing down. “I told him I was the one that killed Lily.”

“God damn it, Mike,” he hissed. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought I was about to kill him. I didn't think....”

“Mike, I didn't want him finding out. It was to protect you. If he thought it was me, he would have attacked me first, before getting to either one of you. I would have stopped him. Now, he's going to be focused on you.”

“He's going to be focused on all of us anyway. I killed Lily, Max killed Luke and you killed other members of their family,” he stated. “We're screwed until he's dead anyway.”

“Mike.”

“Dad, he won't go to jail. He has too much money, too much power. He will kidnap, torture, kill anyone he needs to do to leave.”

“So, you're judge, jury, and executioner? That's not how it works. I did not mean for my actions to imprint this type of behavior onto you. I was angry, I was pissed as hell. My life was so bad, I didn't think there was anything I could lose,” he said, grabbing his arm, “I've got you and I've got Max and Jenny. I can't lose you guys. And you still have your job, you have us. Do you want to lose that?”

“No,” he mumbled.

“Then lose the damn attitude. Stop acting like me and start acting like the agent you used to be. That Mom and I both knew and experienced at the beginning of the damn case,” Ryan demanded. “Because I know you can still do that. I saw it. Mendez saw it, others saw it. You still have a chance.”

Mike didn't expect that. It was something he would have to think and figure out in the coming weeks, with everything going to explode. “As much as it was nice listening to you two figure things out,” Max complained, standing at the doorway, “I started hearing it out in the living room. Are you two done? For the night?”

Ryan looked at Mike, trying to decide it. “Yeah, I think we are,” he said, his hold on his arm switching to going across his shoulders. He waved out to Max, who dropped down beside them. The three hugged awkwardly for a couple of seconds, calming down more.

“Can I sleep with you?” Mike mocked, “Max snores.”

“You stink,” she shot back, “You shouldn't have had that seafood stir fry.” 

Ryan groaned and put them both in a choke hold, getting squeals and muffled shouting from the two of them. He knew they were playing it purposely, and he felt good about it. Not up to the levels yet from before hunting Joe the first time, the times with Debra, watching Mike and Max grow up, but he felt like he could achieve that again. Maybe, maybe he could achieve that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing a epilogue like the last one.
> 
> If I need to tell flashbacks, I'll do it with season 3.
> 
> And I've learned my lesson and won't be posting until I have all the facts.


End file.
